


the bend before the break

by sawitinhereyes



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 76,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawitinhereyes/pseuds/sawitinhereyes
Summary: there are two sides to every story, and the Salvatore brothers are no exception. Elena thought she knew which side she was on, but you know what they say about assumptions... // AU





	1. before the wave hits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> story + chapter titles from "Shouldn't Be a Good in Goodbye" by Jason Walker.
> 
> { I own nothing }

  
… … … 

 

Sometimes, she wonders how people define her in their minds. There are a million different ways it could be done. _Elena Gilbert, youngest of three_. _Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore's best friend_. _Elena Gilbert, honor student_. _Elena Gilbert, cheerleader_.

 _Elena Gilbert, orphan_.

(Yep. She's pretty sure it's that last one.)

She's always loved the first day of school, she muses as she rearranges her things in her locker. It represents a fresh start, a new beginning. Every year for the last ten years, she's hoped that this will be the year that people stop treating her like a charity case. _Poor Elena_ , they say, as if she has nothing, when really, she has everything.

She has Jenna, her young, determined aunt who became their guardian when their parents died. She has Jeremy, her big brother, and the sweet baby boy his wife Anna will give birth to in just a few weeks. She has a few good friends, and her job as a tutor, and cheerleading, a sport she took up to honor her mother.

And she has Stefan. Her best friend since they were in diapers. The boy who wiped her tears and walked her to the nurse when she broke her wrist on the playground in first grade. The boy who always let her play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with him and his brother, even if she didn't have a clue who Donatello was. The boy who sat with her in silence on the curb at recess in the weeks after her parents died, even though all his friends were calling for him to come play. He's been there for her through everything, and she doesn't know what she'd do without him.

So yeah, she thinks as she'd say that despite the tragedy of losing her parents, she's pretty damn lucky when it all comes down to it.

She's momentarily distracted by a flock of football players moving through the halls, talking and laughing loudly and plowing into people left and right, led by none other than Damon Salvatore himself. She can't help but roll her eyes. There was a time, way back when, that she considered Damon one of her best friends. Though he was always a year older than her and Stefan, he always included them in whatever he and his friends were doing. Granted, he was particularly fond of pulling her ponytails and playing silly tricks on her, but she didn't really mind. She doesn't know where that Damon went, but the one who just whistled crudely at an innocent girl who happened to pass him is not the same one she grew up with, and she really doesn't want anything to do with him.

Lucky for her, Stefan doesn't particularly like him, either, so she doesn't feel bad about it.

She looks up to finds him approaching her now, mimicking her eye-roll, and she smiles. "How did you end up so nice when he turned into such a jerk?"

He looks over his shoulder at his older brother. "He joined the football team and got popular, and I stuck to writing short stories. He gets to continue the family legacy, and I get to do my own thing."

"Sometimes I wonder how you two are even related."

"I should petition for a DNA test." She pulls one last textbook out of her locker and shuts the door, falling into step beside him as they walk toward their first class. "You know what I realized this morning?"

"I'm sure it's something completely new and groundbreaking."

"Today is our second-to-last first day of school together." He looks over at her. "Next year we'll be seniors, and who knows where we'll be the year after that."

"Leave it to you to get all sentimental a year early," she laughs. "I guess we should commemorate the occasion with our first-day-of-school tradition."

"Milkshakes from the Grill and secret predictions for the year," he recites. "It's a date."

"It was non-negotiable anyway." The bell rings just as they approach their classroom. "Good morning Mr. Saltzman," Elena calls.

"Good morning, Elena," he smirks, as if they didn't just replay an exchange from the breakfast table this morning. Sometimes she wonders if it's a conflict of interest, that her history teacher is also her aunt's fiancé, but in small town like Mystic Falls, it's practically unavoidable. Besides, he refuses to help her with her homework, and if anything, he expects more out of her than the other students, so it balances out.

"This will never not be weird," Stefan whispers to her as they take their seats, and she laughs.

"Good morning, juniors," Alaric - uh, Mr. Saltzman - greets the class. "Today is the first day of a new year, a clean slate, so let's make it a great one."

He's looking directly at her as he speaks. His words probably sound empty to everyone else, but it's going to be her mantra today. This year _is_ going to be a great one. She's going to make sure of it.

 

… … … 

 

The first thing she does when she gets home is make a bee-line for the answering machine. She doesn't have any messages on her phone, no texts or anything, but that doesn't mean there aren't any waiting for her on the home phone. (It's a long shot, but it's a possibility, okay?) 

"He didn't call."

She looks up and scowls at Jenna. "How do you know? Have you just been sitting by the phone all day?"

Jenna rolls her eyes. "Elena, we would know if Anna went into labor. Jeremy would have called us by now."

Despite the eight-year age gap between them, she's always been close to Jeremy. He never treated her like a nuisance, though it couldn't have been fun being thirteen and having a five-year-old following him around like a lost puppy. She was devastated when he left for college right after their parents died, but Jenna insisted that he get his degree, because it was what their parents wanted for him. When he graduated from Whitmore and moved to Grove Hill with Anna, his college sweetheart, Elena was thrilled.

She remembers Jeremy and Anna's announcement like it was yesterday. They'd been married for two years and trying for at least half of that, and when they finally told the family they were expecting, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. (Or maybe that was just Elena. She's pretty sure she cried enough for all of them.) After all the tragedy their family has been through, she knows her little nephew is going to be the burst of sunshine they need. Anna's due any day now, and Elena's having a little trouble curbing her enthusiasm.

Elena lets out a huff and opens the fridge for a snack instead. "I don't understand what's taking so long."

"Unfortunately, babies aren't type A like you, miss four-point-oh," Jenna teases. "They come whenever they damn well please, and baby boy Gilbert is pretty comfortable where he is."

"I'm just excited, okay?" she whines. "It feels like we've been waiting forever."

"Honey, I'm home!" Alaric sing-songs, closing the front door behind him and making his way to the kitchen. "Elena, did you tell Jenna how you got suspended today?"

"Alaric, did you tell Jenna how you got fired today?"

"Ha-ha, you're both so funny," Jenna deadpans, rolling her eyes as Alaric leans in to kiss her cheek. "You picked the wrong sister. Katherine, I would have believed."

"Katherine probably _has_ been suspended from university already and just won't tell us," Elena jokes.

"You joke, but you just never know with that one," Jenna reminds her. "Of the three children my sister left me with, she's the one I worry about the most."

Elena wants to laugh, but she knows Jenna's not joking. She and Katherine look like they could be twins, but they're separated by three years and are polar opposites in personality. (In fact, growing up, Katherine pretended to be Elena to get her in trouble more than once. Bitch.) Where Elena tends to stick close to the straight and narrow, Katherine just wants to party and have fun. She flirted her way through high school and followed a bunch of her friends to a small community college across the state. Elena wonders if she's even cracked a book since she left over a year ago.

"She's not all bad," Alaric reminds them. "You have to admit, she makes for some pretty entertaining holiday stories."

Elena rolls her eyes. "That might be her only redeeming quality, if it even counts."

"Hey, come on, now," says Jenna. "I know you two don't get along, but she's still your sister, and that counts for something. She's one of only two people who knows exactly what you've been through."

"She has a hell of a way of showing it," Elena scoffs.

"Enough about Katherine when she's not even here to defend herself," Alaric insists. "How was your first day?"

"Let's see, my favorite part was… none of it, and my least favorite part was history class, _Mr. Saltzman_."

She likes to give him a hard time, but really she doesn't know what she'd do without Alaric. Jenna was practically drowning when she met him five years ago. She was young, too young to be raising her sister's three kids on her own, and between her Ph.D. program in psychology and her part-time job waiting tables at the Grill, she was barely keeping her head above water. That is, until she was tending bar one night and met the new history teacher in town. They fell head over heels for each other, and Alaric has been a fixture in Elena's life ever since. Somehow, he and Jenna strike the right balance between concerned parental figures and understanding confidants. Without their advice and guidance, she doesn't know how she would've made it through these last few years.

Alaric scowls at her. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Like the Grill?" 

"Milkshakes and predictions," Jenna remembers.

"I'll be back later!" Elena calls on her way out.

"Was she really okay today?" Jenna worries. "She won't ever admit it, but you know the first day of school is always hard for her."

Alaric leans in to kiss her. "She's a big girl, Jenna. She can handle it." He kisses her again. "She's been handling it for a long time now."

Jenna sighs and leans into him. "She's only seventeen. She shouldn't have to handle it."

"Yeah, well, that's why she has us," he reminds her. "We'll pick up the slack if it becomes too much."

She leans back and smiles at him. "You ever regret chatting me up that day at the bar five years ago? I'm pretty sure you didn't expect to jump straight into parenting."

He smiles down at her. "I've never regretted it. Not for a second."

 

… … … 

 

Stefan hears the voices as soon as he comes through the front door and feels the familiar dread fill his stomach. 

"What do you mean, you might not start this season?"

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll handle it."

"Like hell you will. I'm calling that joke you call a coach tomorrow morning. You're a senior, and a Salvatore at that. Salvatores don't get beat out by underclassmen, Damon."

"I won't. I'll make sure I get the starting spot, even if I have to sprain his ankle myself."

He wonders, for the millionth time, how two brothers could live such parallel but completely different lives. He and Damon share two parents and a hallway between their bedrooms, but the similarities stop there. The way things stand now, he finds it hard to believe there was a time when the two of them were thick as thieves. As children, they were inseparable. They were more than best friends; they were the true definition of brothers. Then middle school rolled around, and Damon joined the football team, and everything changed.

It feels strange to hear their father berating Damon. Ever since it became clear at a young age that Damon was the more athletically gifted of the two of them, their father has favored him over Stefan at every turn. Stefan never liked sports - he didn't care about what team was playing in the Super Bowl, and he never wanted to join in on the pick-up games the other kids in the neighborhood always played. He would much rather sit in his room with a good book, or write a story, or draw a picture. Their father, who led the Mystic Falls Timberwolves to three straight state championship games and who _'could have been the best college QB in the country, if he hadn't blown his knee out'_ , couldn't understand Stefan's interests and cast him aside in favor of his brother. It started out as a joke between them, a jab that Damon would throw at him playfully to rile him up, but when Damon agreed to live out the family legacy as the starting quarterback, he let their father's favoritism go to his head, and their relationship hasn't been the same since. 

"Stefan? Is that you?" His mother emerges from the kitchen with a forced smile. "There's snacks in the kitchen if you're hungry. Come say hello to your father."

 _I'd rather bite off my own tongue._ He debates saying it out loud, but he knows better than to rock the boat. "Sure, Mom."

"Hello, brother," Damon says lazily from his perch on the kitchen counter when Stefan enters. He's eating straight from a box of cereal with his annoying smirk firmly in place. "How nice of you to lower yourself to interact with your family for once."

"You say that like we've missed him." There's a teasing lilt to Giuseppe's voice, but Stefan knows a dig when he hears one, and he forces himself not to wince. He should be used to it by now, honestly. "Sometimes it's like you're not even here, Stefan."

"Oh, now," Lily laughs. "How is Elena these days, dear?"

"She's… fine," he answers warily. "We actually have plans this afternoon."

"Actually, son, there is a pressing matter I've been meaning to discuss with you." 

"Uh, Dad, I have somewhere to--" 

"Listen to your father, Stefan," Lily urges.

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. He fills a glass of water from the dispenser in the fridge door. "I'm listening."

"Well, your brother has done a fantastic job living up to the Salvatore name for the Timberwolves, but he's a senior this year," Giuseppe explains. "And while I have no doubts that he will lead this year's team to a state title - just like your old man did back in the day - I'm thinking it's about time you took your rightful place on the team."

Stefan's head snaps up. "What?"

"I've let you play around with this silly writing hobby of yours for years now, but it's never going to get you anywhere." His father crosses his arms and leans against the counter next to Damon. "Salvatores are meant to be on the field, Stefan. Don't you want to make your family proud?"

Stefan blanches. "I--"

"Of course you do," Giuseppe continues. "That's why I've already arranged a try-out for you, tomorrow afternoon after school. And by try-out, I mean an exhibition, because you're already on the team."

"Dad." Stefan tries to formulate an argument, even though he knows it's futile. "You know I'm no good--"

"This is not a discussion, Stefan," Giuseppe says sternly. "You are expected to show up to practice tomorrow. It's time to get serious about your future, son. College scouts don't come looking for players who aren't even on a team."

"Dad, I don't want… I can't…" He looks to his mother for help, but the weight of Lily's forced smile keeps her mouth from moving in his defense. He wants to scream, and yell, and throw something, but it won't help anything. If anything, it'll just make things worse. So he closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. "Fine."

"Good man." Giuseppe claps him on the shoulder a little harder than necessary and Stefan tries not to wince. "Nice to see you finally coming to your senses. This way maybe you can actually make something of yourself."

His father leaves the room, and his mother squeezes Stefan's hand as she follows. Stefan looks to his brother, who looks unimpressed.

Damon shrugs. "Congratulations, brother. Or should I say, _teammate_ ," he smirks.

He hops off the counter and walks out of the room, leaving Stefan in shock to wonder what just happened, and why the hell he just stood there and let it.

 

… … …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends! this is a little different than anything I've written before, partially because it's much longer and partially because I've kind of created my own alternate universe here. the idea came from my obsession with One Tree Hill, and wondering which characters on TVD would match up with characters on OTH. see if you can figure out who's who. ;-) i loved writing this and it's gonna be a fun ride so buckle up and let me know what you think!


	2. everything you wanted, everything you don’t

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from “holding on and letting go” by ross copperman.
> 
> wasn’t gonna post this til sunday but here’s a bonus chapter because i’m just so excited about this story! happy thanksgiving y’all!

… … …

 

He parks far enough away from the Grill to allow him to blow off some steam, thinking the walk might give him time to clear his head. Instead, by the time he gets there, he's practically seething.

He walks into the Grill, spots Elena in their usual booth, makes his way over to her. She looks up and waves, but something about the look on his face makes her frown.

"Uh oh," she says.

"Hello to you, too."

"You don't look like you're in the mood for pleasantries."

He clear his throat, takes a deep breath. "My father has decreed that I am joining the football team this year. Tomorrow, to be exact."

Elena blinks at him. "What?"

"Yes. My ' _silly writing hobby_ ' isn't going to get me anywhere in life, and it's time for me to live up to the family name."

"Just when I thought your family couldn't get more screwed up."

"I want to break something."

"Well, don't break the table." He looks down and finds that he's gripping the table so hard his knuckles are white, and he clasps his hands together instead. "Damon can't be happy about this."

"Oh, no. He was just his usual smug self. ' _Congratulations, brother_ ,'" Stefan sneers. "I should've told both of them where to shove it."

"What did your mom say?"

"She just stood there like a puppet and smiled."

"I can't believe this. Doesn't he know you're _terrible_ at football?" He glares at her. "Okay, sorry. Fine. Let's just get our milkshakes. Maybe the ice cream will cool down your hot head."

The waitress comes by, and she orders a Rocky Road milkshake, while he orders his usual vanilla. Elena kicks his shin teasingly. "Aren't you ever going to order something different?"

He scoffs. "I thought the whole point of a tradition is that it's the _same_ every time. You're the one screwing everything up. Since when do you like Rocky Road?"

"Since I read it on the menu and it sounded good." She rolls her eyes. "Have you thought about your predictions?"

"I've been a little preoccupied."

"Well, think about them now."

"It doesn't matter, anyway. Anything I thought this year might be has been completely shot to hell now." He lets out a long breath. "I don't understand why he's so intent on making me miserable."

"Listen to me," Elena says sternly. "This is going to be a great year, okay? It is. I'm giving you one day to wallow in this, and then you're going to suck it up and make the most of it. You might get a spot on the team because of your name, but you suck at football - _ouch_ , don't kick me for being honest! Odds are you'll never even see the field. So really, you just have to bide your time at practice, and then live the rest of your life the way you want."

"If that was a pep talk, it needs some work."

"Come on, Stefan," Elena sighs. "This sucks. I know it sucks, and I know you hate it, and I hate that you're so upset. I hate that your family hurts you this way. But it could be so much worse, and just think of it this way." She smiles. "Now you get to spend your Friday nights with me while I cheer instead of holing up in your room, waiting for the game to be over."

He thinks of her parents, feels like a complete dick. He knows that's not what she meant, but still. He knows she misses them every day, wishes she could have them back. His problems suck, but they'll always pale in comparison to hers. "You're right. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just… take a deep breath," she suggests as the waitress sets their milkshakes down in front of them. "Drink your milkshake, and try to think through some _positive_ predictions for the year."

She pulls the small box out of her purse, and he smiles at the faded logo on the metal. They started this tradition on the first day of fifth grade. Her parents died that spring, and Stefan was trying to find whatever way he could to cheer her up. He told her to think of something good she wanted to happen this year, to write it down, and he would do the same. " _We'll put them in my secret Ninja Turtle box, and we'll open it at the end of the year and see if they came true_."

Over the years, the predictions became less like predictions and more like wishes. Things they wanted to happen, even if the odds were slim. In ninth grade, he predicted that he would make Katherine fall in love with him. (Elena may have thrown her shoe at him when he read it back to her at the end of the year.) But he succeeded in his original goal - to make her smile. No matter how sad she is that her parents are missing another first day of school, their tradition makes her smile every year. It gives her a little glimmer of hope, something to hold on to. Something to look forward to.

He thinks this year maybe he needs it a little more than she does.

 

… … …

 

Every year, on the first day of cheerleading practice, Elena wonders why she joined this stupid sport in the first place. And every year, as she pulls her hair into a tight ponytail and ties a red ribbon around it, she remembers the proud smile on her mother's face when she helped Elena dress for her first cheerleading competition when she was five, and she feels a piece of her heart break.

She might hate it, but it makes her feel close to her mom, so she's gonna take her own advice and suck it up.

The first practice of the year is always awkward. She doesn't hang out with the girls on the cheerleading squad because she can't take the drama. It's always about who's dating who, who's wearing what, who's house to get drunk at that weekend. She's got enough complications in her life without wasting her time and energy on stupid gossip.

Exhibit A: Caroline Forbes.

Captain of the cheerleading squad, Miss Mystic Falls favorite, star of every school theatre production since middle school. Last year, she started dating Matt Donovan, the up-and-coming quarterback who won a state playoff game while Damon was sidelined with an injury. (There's talk this year that he might take Damon's spot as the starting quarterback, but if Elena knows one thing, it's that the Salvatore family is football royalty in this town, and Giuseppe Salvatore would rather die than let his son lose his starting spot to an underclassman.) She lives and breathes drama, and she's always the star of the show. Even now, as Elena takes her place to stretch with the rest of the girls, Caroline is leaning over the chain-link fence for a quick make-out session with Matt.

Elena rolls her eyes and looks to her right. "Do those two ever come up for air?" She asks.

Bonnie laughs. "Eventually." The whistle blows, and Matt finally breaks away to join the rest of the team. "They have to be forced, typically."

"It's a wonder they haven't suffocated."

Suddenly, Caroline calls her name. "Hey, Elena, isn't that Damon's brother?"

Elena looks at Caroline, looks over at the field, sees Stefan talking to the coach, rolls her eyes. "He has a name, Caroline."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Isn't that Stefan? You hang out with him, right?"

Elena eyes her suspiciously. "Yes."

"Is he single?"

"Caroline, you have a boyfriend."

"Well, obviously." She rolls her eyes. "I'm just curious. He's hot. Why have I never noticed him before?"

 _Probably because he's never been on the football team before_ , Elena thinks. "I don't know, Caroline."

Caroline shrugs and claps her hands to welcome the squad back for the new year, and Elena turns to Bonnie again. "What the hell was that?"

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "She's my best friend, but even I couldn't tell you how her mind works."

"Excuse me, Elena, Bonnie," Caroline says politely. "If you don't mind, we have important cheerleading squad business to attend to."

 _Important cheerleading squad business_. Sometimes she wonders why her mother loved this sport so damn much.

 

… … …

 

Damon doesn't love a lot of things. He _likes_ a lot of things. He likes the way he can have any girl he wants just by flashing his baby blues and his smirk. He likes being drunk on a Saturday night with his buddies. He loves his family, sure, he guesses, but his dad's overbearing and his mom's a pushover, and don't even get him started on his brother. There's not much he loves, but he _loves_ football.

He loves the game. He loves the rush of running through the tunnel on Friday nights to an entire town's worth of screaming fans. He loves the calm feeling he gets right before he throws a perfect pass and hits a receiver in stride. He loves the way the world slows down when the ball flies through the air, loves the way his teammates pat him on the helmet. He won't lie, he even loves the camaraderie with his teammates that only comes from endless practices on hot August days. He loves _everything_.

He grew up with it, naturally. His father is a Mystic Falls football legend. It's common knowledge - at least if you ask Dad - that Giuseppe Salvatore would have been the greatest college quarterback in history if he hadn't blown his knee out his sophomore year at Ohio State. Damon didn't really get it until he picked up a football when he was four, but the first time he threw the ball to his Dad was the first time he ever saw him smile. Not smirk, not sneer, but _smile_. He's been groomed to follow in his father's footsteps ever since.

But it's come at a price. His father doesn't care if he enjoys it; he just wants him to be the best. At first he thought his dad was just trying to help him, trying to make him a better player because he cared. (Ha.) It took him a while, but Damon figured it out a few years ago - his father is living vicariously through him. He's grooming Damon to be the best college quarterback there ever was, just so he can turn around and say that _he_ would've been better. He wants it so badly he's willing to tear down anyone in his way, including poor, innocent Matt Donovan. The kid played a hell of a game in the playoffs last year, and there's been a few rumors that Damon's starting spot is in jeopardy. Damon knows his father won't let that happen. He just wishes Matt didn't have to get caught in the crossfire of a Giuseppe Salvatore crusade.

"Poor kid doesn't even know what's coming his way," Enzo comments as he catches another lazy pass from Damon.

"Yeah, Dad's got a pretty serious vendetta against Donovan," Damon agrees, grabbing another ball from the basket and throwing a perfect spiral toward his best friend. "Kid better watch his back."

"I was talking about your scrawny little brother," Enzo clarifies.

Ah, yes, the elephant in the room. (On the field? Whatever.) "Stefan sucks at football, but he can handle himself. He'll be fine."

"Remind me again why your dad is so hell-bent on him joining the team?"

"Because Dad has this stupid idea that our family legacy is in jeopardy if Stefan doesn't carry it on after I graduate." Damon rolls his eyes. "It doesn't matter. He won't see any playing time. Not if Lockwood has anything to say about it."

"Or you?" Enzo smirks and throws laser at Damon's chest.

Damon smirks. "I don't care either way, as long as he figures out how to catch the damn ball." He watches as Stefan fumbles his way through a few drills while the coach and his father watch intently. "I don't care that Stefan's on the team. Maybe now he'll understand he's not the only one who has to deal with Dad's bullshit."

Enzo catches another ball, tosses it around in his hands. "You think Donovan's got a legit shot?"

Damon mulls it over, watches as Donovan throws a few passes to Tyler Lockwood, the team's best receiver. They're good, but he knows he's better. "Nah. And not just because Dad would throw a fit."

Enzo sighs, throws the ball back to him. "Your daddy issues are exhausting."

Damon watches as their father yells something at Stefan and fights the urge to wince. "Something tells me it's about to get a whole lot worse."

 

… … …

 

Stefan's the last one into the locker room to shower, and he's thankful. He can't deal with any more of their snarky comments today, and he needs to get the hell away from his father before things get ugly.

He doesn't understand any of this. He doesn't know why his father can't just be happy with one athletically gifted son. Damon's excellence should make up for whatever talent Stefan missed out on in the gene pool. He's thankful practices are generally closed to outsiders, because if he has to hear his father scream at him about _not working hard enough_ one more time he might break his own arm just to give him an excuse to quit.

It's later than he planned by the time he finally makes it to Elena's house, but he can't (won't) go home, so he walks in without knocking. "'Lena," he calls.

"Kitchen!" she calls back. He hears more voices from the kitchen, hears Alaric's laugh and Jenna's indignant cries. He can never quite get over how much her house feels like a _home_. He supposes that's why he spends so much of his time over here; he needs a sense of home that he can't ever get at his own house.

"You look beat," Elena comments, sliding out the stool next to her at the kitchen counter. "Do I even want to ask how it was?"

Jenna slides a glass of water in front of him, and he gulps it down gratefully. "Will you break my arm for me?"

Elena snorts. "No."

"Some friend you are." He slides the empty glass across the counter and Alaric refills it for him. "How was cheerleading? How was your tutoring session?"

"Cheerleading was boring, but tutoring was great, because I'm super good at my job. Don't change the subject. I saw your dad over there while you were practicing."

"Your dad showed up to practice?" Alaric asks, trying to sneak a finger into the pot of whatever Jenna's stirring before she smacks his hand away.

"He wanted to make sure I actually showed up," Stefan grumbles. "But he took the opportunity to tell me that I'm doing basically everything wrong, including breathing."

"What about Damon?" Elena asks. "Did he say anything to Damon?"

Stefan scoffs. "No, of course not. Damon's perfect. Damon doesn't need any instruction."

"Damon's an asshole, so you still win." Elena smirks. "Hey, I have something that might cheer you up."

"Doubtful."

"Caroline Forbes asked me about you today."

Stefan glares at her. "There's no need to make up lies, Elena."

"I'm not kidding," she laughs. "She asked me if you were single, said you were hot."

"Isn't she dating that Donovan kid?" Alaric asks.

"You know far too many things you shouldn't know," Jenna teases.

Elena laughs. "She was sucking face with him about twenty seconds before that conversation."

Stefan frowns. "So basically, you're telling me that a hot girl who I _can't have_ said I was hot. How exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?"

Elena rolls her eyes. "I was wrong. You're beyond saving."

Alaric sneaks a taste of Jenna's concoction while she's distracted. "You want my advice?"

Stefan rubs his temples. "Have I ever wanted your advice, Ric?"

Alaric ignores him. "You should have some of this spaghetti sauce, because it's _delicious_."

"Ric!" Jenna cries. "Stop sticking your finger in the pot!"

"I can't even compliment your cooking without getting scolded," Alaric complains. "Is this what it's going to be like when we're married?"

"Keep sticking your finger in the pot and you'll never find out."

Alaric widens his eyes at Elena. "Did you hear that?"

Elena just chuckles and turns back to Stefan. "Look, your dad won't be back to practice, because he's not allowed. Coach Tanner is much more forgiving than your dad, so I wouldn't worry too much about your performance. And as for Caroline…"

"Watch out," Alaric warns, pointing a wooden spoon in Stefan's direction. "That one'll get you into trouble."

"Like I have any intention of getting involved with _Caroline Forbes._ "

"Famous last words, my friend," Alaric mumbles. "Famous last words."

 

… … …

 

When Damon walks into the locker room the next day, he finds that he's dreading practice. He _never_ dreads practice. Usually, it's the best part of his day. Sometimes it's the only time he actually feels like he knows what he's doing. He hates school, and yeah, he's got friends, but only Enzo really understands the problems he has at home, and Enzo's a fucking shithead at least 85% of the time. But practice? Practice is his safe haven. It's where he feels most confident, most in control, most at ease.

But when he throws his bag down next to his locker, there's a note on the door to see Coach Tanner ASAP.

It's the third day of school. What the fuck could he have done wrong already?

"Salvatore," Coach greets him when he enters. "Shut the door, please."

Damon warily shuts the office door and takes a seat in front of the desk. "What's up, Coach?"

Coach Tanner leans back in his chair, links his fingers together, studies him carefully. Damon fights the urge to squirm under his gaze, and instead just stares back at him. "Do you have any idea what your grades were last semester, Damon?"

"Uh…" Damon wracks his brain. "I mean, I know they weren't great, but I passed everything."

"You made straight C's," Coach Tanner corrects him. "Do you know what that makes your current GPA?"

"I'm guessing it's not good."

"You're a hundredth of a point away from being ineligible."

That gets his attention. "Wait. Ineligible, like…"

"Like, if you don't get your act together this quarter, you won't be able to play. And I know you're looking at getting a scholarship for next year."

"Coach, I--"

"I don't want to hear any excuses," Coach Tanner says sternly. "You're a hell of a player, Salvatore, but your primary goal here is to graduate high school, not to win football games. No matter what your father has drilled into your head. Football comes second."

"Yeah, I--"

"Here's a referral to the tutoring center." Coach hands him a slip of paper. "I want you in tutoring after practice a few days a week. I'll let you figure out the details, but I want a better report card on my desk at the end of this quarter, or Donovan's starting the rest of the season."

Damon quickly shuts his mouth. He's sure his face must be white as a sheet. "Yes, sir."

He doesn't know how long he sits on the bench in front of his locker, staring at the strip of paper in his hand, wondering how the hell he's come so close to losing everything without even realizing it. He must look like a zombie, because when Enzo finally shows up, he says, "What the hell happened to you?"

Damon can't even answer. There's just one thought running through his mind on repeat.

_Dad's gonna kill me._

 

… … …


	3. you've opened the door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "all I need" by within temptation.
> 
> enjoy and let me know what you think!

… … …

 

Damon's never been the best student, okay? That was always Stefan's domain. Damon got all the athletic genes, Stefan got all the intellectual ones. Damon is perfectly comfortable with a high-C average, high enough to maintain his eligibility to play but not low enough to discourage a college scout from pursuing him. It's never been a problem before, but all of the sudden, he's a breath away from watching his future go down the drain. 

"I don't know why you're so surprised," Enzo shrugs.

Damon glares at him. "Remind me why the hell we're friends again?"

"Because I'm the only one who can put up with your egomaniac bullshit," Enzo reminds him with a laugh. "Nobody expects you to be Einstein, Salvatore. It's not the end of the world. You just need someone to keep you on track so you don't fall behind."

"What I need is a beer."

Enzo rolls his eyes. "Just suck it up and deal with it, dude."

Damon eyes his friend suspiciously. "What's wrong with you today? You're being more of a dick than usual."

"Problems at home," Enzo says shortly. "I gotta go talk to Coach before we head out to the field. Put your big girl pants on and go warm up, because I need to blow off some steam and I plan on knocking you on your ass a few times."

Damon watches him walk away. Enzo has been his best friend since he knocked Damon on his ass in his very first practice with the Timberwolves freshman year. The asshole plowed straight into him, then sat up and smirked down at him. " _I'm Enzo,_ " he said smugly. " _Just figured I should introduce myself_."

So naturally, they became best friends. Enzo's the only one who truly knows the extent of what Damon goes through at home; in fact, Enzo's seen it first-hand on more than one occasion. He doesn't let many people in, but Enzo has never judged him, and he's a pretty damn good listener when he wants to be. Damon knows Enzo's been going through some tough things at home recently, but he also knows Enzo doesn't want to let anyone help him, including Damon. After everything Enzo's done for him, Damon wants to return the favor. It would help if his friend would _let him,_ you know, once in a while.

In the meantime, he's got problems of his own to deal with. Like how the hell he's gonna make sure he's eligible to play this season. No big deal, or anything.

 

… … …

 

By the time Stefan makes it to Friday, he thinks this might have been the longest week of his life. Between school, and football practice, and the insane amount of homework his teachers have already dropped on him, he's never been so happy to see the weekend in his life. Just six classes stand between him and a weekend away from this hellhole.

He's standing at his locker, strategizing the million different ways he can keep himself away from his house for the next few days, when she sneaks up behind him.

"Stefan Salvatore."

He knows that voice. He knows that voice, and he knows he's in trouble. He spins around from his locker to face her. "Can I help you?"

"So _you're_ the other Salvatore brother," Caroline smirks, looking him up and down appreciatively. She leans against the locker next to him, crosses her arms. "That is one impressive gene pool."

She's trying to make him blush. He won't give her the satisfaction. "Heard you were asking around about me," he says casually. 

Caroline smiles wider. "Yeah? So what if I was?"

"So," he smirks back at her. "I don't think your boyfriend would be too happy to hear about it."

He nods over her shoulder, and she turns around to find Matt and Tyler headed straight for them. She turns back and rolls her eyes. "Just because I'm taken doesn't mean I can't appreciate the fresh meat."

Stefan snorts. "Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, I'm not looking to be eaten."

Caroline's eyes flash with mischief. "Hmm. Your loss."

"Care," Matt calls as they approach, his eyes shifting between she and Stefan. "I thought you were gonna meet me out front."

"I was just welcoming the newest member of the team," she insists, sliding underneath Matt's arm effortlessly with a sweet smile. "Cheerleading captain duties."

Matt looks unimpressed, shifts his gaze to Stefan. He narrows his eyes. "You must be Damon's brother."

"I prefer to go by Stefan." Stefan smirks. "You must be Damon's back-up."

Matt snorts. "Okay, _Stefan_ ," he smirks. "See you at practice, then."

The three of them turn and head the opposite direction, and he can't help but roll his eyes again. He's not trying to make any enemies, especially if that guy's gonna be his teammate, but he's not in the mood to deal with egomaniacs today. Speaking of egomaniacs, he sees his brother coming down the hall, and he ducks into his first class to avoid him. Between football practice and their father, he's had enough reminders that he's the inferior brother to last him a lifetime.

Art is his favorite class of the day. He's much better at writing, but sketching is one of his favorite things to do in his spare time, so a class where he gets to sit for an hour and do just that is pretty much heaven for him. He sits in his favorite seat and looks up in surprise when someone takes the seat next to him. He tries to place the face, but he's pretty certain he's never seen this guy before.

New guy turns and smirks. "Sorry, mate," he says in a thick British accent. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't," Stefan protests.

He smirks wider. "Sure. I'm Klaus," he says. "My family just moved here from London." 

"That explains the accent."

Klaus chuckles. "Listen…"

"Stefan," he fills in.

"Stefan," Klaus continues. "I don't mean to pry, but who was that lovely blonde you were speaking with in the hall?"

Stefan narrows his eyes. Something about this guy really bugs him, but he can't put his finger on what, exactly. "Caroline Forbes. And if you saw that exchange, you must have realized that she has a boyfriend."

Klaus chuckles, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. The smirk on his face is one Stefan knows all too well; it's the same look Damon wears when he decides he wants something, and it never means anything good. "That might've stopped you, mate, but it won't stop me."

 

… … …

 

Elena breathes a sigh of relief as she opens her locker for the final time that day. There is no better feeling than dumping all of her books in her locker on a Friday afternoon. She has a few tutoring sessions to get to, but she doesn't mind so much. She loves tutoring. She threw herself pretty heavily into academics after her parents died, and when the principal approached her about a job in the tutoring center in ninth grade, she couldn't turn it down. The look on someone's face when they finally understand a tough concept, the feeling of pride she gets when one of her students gets a good grade… there's nothing like it, really. In fact, she can't wait to immerse herself in that world for the next few hours. 

"Elena."

She almost jumps out of her skin and whirls around to face Bonnie. "Jesus, you scared the hell out of me!"

Bonnie laughs. "Sorry. I'm in a hurry, but I wanted to catch you before I left."

"Sure, what's up?" Elena closes her locker and turns to face her friend, adjusting the strap of her bag.

"You should probably warn Stefan about Caroline," Bonnie sighs. "She's pretty hell-bent on getting his attention, and I have a feeling he might get ambushed sometime soon." 

Elena looks over Bonnie's shoulder. "Hey, heads up, you might wanna watch out for Caroline. She might ambush you soon."

Stefan snorts, comes to a stop beside them. "Yeah, well, you're too late. She beat you to the punch."

Bonnie groans. "I should've known she wouldn't waste any time." She turns to Stefan, apology shining in her eyes. "She doesn't mean anything by it. Really, she's happy with Matt. She just gets a sick satisfaction out of watching the boys squirm." 

Stefan rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I got that. Also got the evil eye from Donovan this morning. Oh, and the new kid has his sights on her, so you might wanna warn her about him." 

"New kid?" Elena furrows her brow. "I haven't seen anyone new around."

"He's in my art class," Stefan says. "Klaus. He said his family just moved here from London."

Bonnie's eyes light up with recognition. "I think his sister was in my history class today. Rebekah. She's joining the squad on Monday," she tells Elena.

"Caroline's gonna love that," Elena snorts.

"Just… warn her about Klaus," Stefan repeats. "He doesn't seem to care that she's off the market, and I'm not so sure I trust him."

Elena tilts her head at him. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you might care about her a little bit," she teases.

"He's sketchy, okay?" Stefan laughs, shoving Elena's shoulder. "Thanks for the heads up, Bonnie."

"Sorry I was too late," Bonnie sighs. "Gotta work on my timing. See you guys on Monday."

Elena waves as she and Stefan fall into step in the other direction. "How many tutoring sessions do you have today?" he asks.

"Just two," she answers, pulling the key to the room out of the side pocket of her bag. "Should be fairly easy, since the semester's barely started. I'll call you when I'm done."

She's surprised to find that the door to the tutoring center is unlocked. She didn't think anyone else was supposed to be here this afternoon; she's usually the only one willing to take on Friday afternoon students. She pushes the door open and stops dead in her tracks. 

Sitting there with his feet propped up on a table like he owns the place is none other than Damon Salvatore.

 

… … …

 

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He expected a bit of a warmer greeting. He shouldn't be surprised, he supposes. She doesn't much care for him these days.

"Nice to see you, too, Elena."

She looks good, he notes. Really good. She doesn't spend much time hanging around the Salvatore house these days, and considering the fact that he and Stefan aren't on the best of terms on a good day, he's only seen glimpses of her over the past few years. This is probably the closest he's been to her since he was thirteen and convinced her to dance with him at the middle school Valentine's day dance. Five years can change a lot about a person. 

Where was he? Oh, yeah. She looks good. He should probably stop staring and say something.

"I need a tutor."

"Fine." Elena picks up a clipboard from the shelf by the door and hands it to him. "Write down your information and the tutoring center will assign someone to you. I have a student in five minutes."

"No, Elena, listen." Damon stands up to face her. He towers over her now, he notices. She stares back at him, annoyance tinging her pretty face. "I need _you_ to tutor me."

Elena snorts. "Right."

"I'm serious," he insists.

She doesn't get it, he realizes. She has no idea. She only knows what Stefan's told her. Stefan thinks he's the only victim of their father's overbearing iron fist, and that Damon's the one who got the sweet end of the deal. He doesn't even know the half of it, which means Elena doesn't, either.

"Why me?" she wonders. "Why does it even matter? You need help, someone can help you, but I don't want it to be me."

"Because I trust you," he says, because it's true. "Look, you know my dad. If he finds out my grades are slipping… I don't even want to think about it, because it's not going to happen. Because you're going to help me. Come on, Elena. We were friends once."

Okay, that was a low blow, and he knows it. Her face falls a little, and he tries to pretend like he doesn't notice. "Yes, Damon, we were," she concedes. "Once. A long time ago, when you were a different person. But we're not friends now, and I don't feel like I owe you any favors."

_Ouch_. "You don't," he agrees. "I know that. I know I'm asking a lot of you."

"Stefan would kill me."

He rolls his eyes. "Stefan doesn't need to know. In fact, no one needs to know. It can just be between you and me. I just need to get my grades up for this quarter so I can keep playing." 

Elena sighs. "How bad will it get? If your dad finds out?"

Damon winces involuntarily. "Honestly? I wish I knew."

She bites her lip, and he watches her face as she mulls it over. She lets out a long breath and turns to face him. "Fine," she agrees. "But we do this on my terms, and you agree that _no one can find out_. Especially Stefan."

He breathes out a sigh of relief. "I swear. It'll be our secret. I owe you big time, Elena." 

"Just get out of here," she sighs. "Before I realize what a horrible mistake I'm making and change my mind."

He smirks. "I'll make sure you don't regret it."

 

… … …


	4. you could come and save me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "echo" by jason walker.
> 
> thanks for the great feedback on this story so far! enjoy this next chapter!

 … … …

 

Caroline Forbes does not shy away from attention. She never has. She _loves_ the spotlight, even craves it sometimes. She loves the way she can get a crowd riled up at a football game with a wave of her red and black pom poms. She loves the way the audience _ooh_ s and _ahh_ s when she opens her mouth and sings on stage. She loves the way she can make boys fall at her feet with a bat of her long eyelashes and a sexy smirk. (How do you think she got Matt Donovan to notice her at the height of his popularity last fall?)

She usually loves knowing eyes are watching her everywhere she goes, but for some reason, today it's creeping her out.

"The infamous Caroline Forbes," says a smooth voice from behind her.

She whirls around to face whoever is talking to her. If his accent didn't get her attention, his chiseled facial features certainly do, not to mention the way his lips are quirked up in a smirk.

"The one and only," she croons. "And you are?"

"Klaus Mikaelson." Before she can even react, he's brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"I'm sure," she deadpans. "You must be new around here."

"Just moved from across the pond a few weeks ago," he confirms. "This school seemed dreadfully boring until I saw your lovely face yesterday. Forgive me for being so forward, but I just had to introduce myself. It seems you have no shortage of suitors around here."

She chuckles. "You could say that. I do have one in particular, though, who doesn't look so happy at the moment."

Klaus looks over his shoulder, no doubt noticing Matt glaring at them from across the hall. "Ah, yes, I had heard about that particular nuisance. Any chance you're ready to upgrade?"

She snorts. "In your dreams, my friend." She smirks as she turns to walk away from him. "Welcome to Mystic Falls."

She won't lie; his offer was tempting. It's not that she doesn't love Matt, because she does. (She thinks.) She likes spending time with him, and the sex is great, and he treats her like gold most of the time. But he's been especially clingy lately, and she's getting bored. Restless. She has this nagging feeling in the back of her head that it's time to move on, that she should cut him loose and stop stringing him along. But then he'll tell her how beautiful she looks, or he'll bring her flowers for no reason, or she'll hear someone talking about how incredible they look together. She doesn't know if she's ready to give all that up.

(No one said she wasn't selfish, okay?)

Besides, if she's going to ' _upgrade_ ,' it certainly wouldn't be for someone like Klaus. The way he looked at her… okay, she felt sexy, but she also felt like she was just a piece of ass to him. She doesn't mind boys looking at her, but she does have standards for how she should be treated.

"Who the hell was that?" Matt demands when she finally approaches him, and she rolls her eyes.

"Don't get all caveman on me," she groans.

"What am I supposed to think, Care?" he asks. "Yesterday it's that Salvatore kid-"

"Stefan."

"Yeah, whatever. And today, it's the new kid. It's like you want to talk to every guy in this school except the one you're actually dating."

"Oh, please," she scoffs. "So I'm not allowed to _talk_ to a guy - who approached _me_ by the way, not the other way around - unless it's you? Give me a break, Matt. I'm not your property."

Matt sighs in annoyance, lowers his voice. "I didn't say you were." He moves closer to her, takes her hand in his. "I'm sorry. It's been a long week, and you've been a little distant lately, and I don't know, I guess I'm just scared of losing you."

Her face softens. "You're not gonna lose me," she says quietly. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him in close to her. He lets his forehead rest against hers, his arms looping around her waist. "No matter how many guys I talk to in the halls, I always come back to you, don't I?"

He smirks. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes," she laughs. "Those guys don't mean anything. I'm just being friendly. You know I only want you."

He leans in to kiss her. "Good," he sighs. "Now can we please go skip first period and make out under the bleachers?"

She hums contentedly, kisses him again. "You read my mind, Mr. Donovan."

 

… … …

 

For the thousandth time since Friday afternoon, she wonders what the hell she was thinking.

She agreed to tutor Damon Salvatore. Damon, who couldn't be bothered to associate with his own brother once he tasted success on the football field. Damon, who made her cry in in the hallway in ninth grade in front of half the school. Damon, who played the ' _we used to be friends_ ' card when he hasn't given her the time of day in _years_. She must have had an aneurysm, or something.

But then she remembers his face. The way his blue eyes softened just a little when he looked at her, though his smirk stayed firmly intact. The way he looked relieved when she agreed to help him. But most of all, the disgusted look on his face when he talked about his dad.

She's had this nagging feeling in the back of her head all weekend that she doesn't know the full story. She knows Stefan's side of the Salvatore family saga. She knows every horrible thing their father has said to him over the years, every time he's ever made him feel like he's an outsider in his own family. Stefan's always made it sound like Damon had it easy, and she never questioned it, never wondered if something more was going on. But she knows Giuseppe. She's seen first-hand what he can do to a person without even laying a finger on them. She can't imagine even Damon would be exempt from that kind of emotional abuse.

She shakes her head, shuts her locker to head to cheerleading practice. She's getting ahead of herself. Maybe she's reading more into this than she needs to. Besides, even if all of that is true, none of it makes up for the way he's treated her - _them_ \- for the last few years. She needs to remember that. He might be a victim, but he's not innocent.

She sees Stefan already on the field, and she waves as she walks along the chain-link fence. He jogs over to her and she stops to talk to him. "You look more athletic already," she teases.

He rolls his eyes. "Can I come to your place after practice? Things were extra tense at home this weekend and I want to delay going home as long as possible."

She hesitates. "Uh… I mean, you can go over there if you want, but I have a late tutoring session, so I won't be home."

"Late?" Stefan furrows his brow. "Like after football practice, late?"

"Yeah," she says warily. "It's, uh… they had a conflict earlier in the afternoon, so we just pushed it back a little later. It's not a big deal."

"Okay," he backs away. "Maybe I'll just go harass Ric into letting me kick his ass at PlayStation."

Elena laughs. "You won't have to ask him twice."

She feels a gnawing in the pit of her stomach knowing that she just lied to her best friend. Okay, so she didn't _technically_ lie to him - she does have a tutoring session today after football practice. She just didn't tell him it's Damon she's tutoring. But he wouldn't understand; she knows he wouldn't. He would ask her all sorts of questions, wonder why she agreed to help him when she was under no obligation to do so. She doesn't know how she would even broach the subject with him. It's not even that big of a deal, she reminds herself. It's just a few tutoring sessions to get Damon through football season. Harmless, really.

She wishes she believed herself.

She's making her way back over to the rest of the squad for cheerleading practice when Caroline catches her arm. "Stefan's looking better out there already," she comments with a smirk.

Elena rolls her eyes. "Leave him alone, Caroline," she laughs. "He's not the type to play the kinds of games you want to play."

"Relax, okay?" Caroline bumps Elena's hip with her own. "Just because I'm taken doesn't mean I can't appreciate the green grass on the other side."

And because that metaphor makes sense, oddly enough, Elena shrugs and decides that Stefan can handle himself, and more importantly, he can handle Caroline. She's harmless, really. As harmless as Elena tutoring Damon.

(Still not believing it.)

 

… … …

 

It's not his fault that he can't concentrate, okay? He's got a lot going on in his life. He had to come up with a stupid excuse for his father about why he wouldn't be home after practice to go over game tape for their first opponent this week. He tweaked the same wrist he injured a year ago during practice - nothing major, but he really should be icing it instead of using it to write out calculus problems. Not to mention, Elena didn't change out of her cheerleading practice uniform, and he needs to remember to thank Caroline for making the tank tops a little extra low-cut this year.

"Eyes on your paper, Salvatore."

His eyes travel up a little further to meet hers, and he smirks. "But there's so many other interesting things to look at."

She rolls her eyes. "If you're not going to take this seriously, then…"

"Alright, alright," he concedes, turning back to face his paper. "Remind me what the hell we're talking about again."

"Limits."

"You mean like the limits of my attention span?"

"The limit would not exist, because your attention span is nonexistent."

"Touché," he chuckles.

"Just…" She sighs. "Just read that passage in your book one more time and tell me what doesn't make sense to you."

He tries to read through it for the fifth time, but it's basically written in a different language. He doesn't know why he needs to know any of this shit, anyway. How many times do people use calculus in everyday life? He'd be willing to bet it's somewhere around _never_. "None of it makes sense to me, because it's not written in English."

Elena rolls her eyes. "Okay, smartass. Let's start with something a little simpler."

"Are you calling me simple-minded?"

"If the shoe fits…"

He frowns. "Aren't tutors supposed to encourage their students?"

She snorts. "You don't need any more ego stroking. You need to be knocked down a peg."

He scowls at her. He knows they're not friends, and he knows she doesn't care for him. He's not naïve enough to think that magically changed over the weekend. But she's talking to him like he's stupid and worthless and he really doesn't appreciate it. "I'm not an idiot, Elena."

"No, you're not," she agrees. "You just act like one."

He bristles. "Just help me understand what the hell I'm supposed to be doing so I can go home."

"The more you complain, the more I think this really is a waste of my time."

"Yeah, well, I'm starting to think it's a waste of mine, too. You don't even care about helping me, do you?"

"Stop being so dramatic." She looks up at him. "You don't want to be here any more than I do."

"So then why are we even here?"

"Good question. It was _your_ idea, remember?"

"Yeah, well, maybe I really am an idiot then." He stands up, snatches the calculus textbook from her hand, shoves it in his backpack. "Fuck this. I'll figure it out on my own."

"Good luck with that!" Elena calls after him.

It's not until he slams the door of his Camaro behind him and bangs his fist against the steering wheel a few times that he processes what just happened. Elena was doing him a favor, and she really was trying to help him, even if she wasn't very nice about it. And really, he shouldn't be surprised, because he doesn't deserve her kindness. He's treated her like shit for the better part of the last five years, and she has no reason to be even a little bit nice to him. But she agreed to do him a favor, because that's the kind of person she is. And he blew it.

 _Fuck_. No wonder he needs a tutor. He really is a dumbass sometimes.

 

… … …

 

She's still in a less than stellar mood by the time Friday rolls around, which sucks, because it's game day. The games are her favorite part of cheering; it's really the only part she actually enjoys. During practice, what they do feels pointless and frivolous, but during the games… it's just different. They're hyping up the crowd, and cheering on the team, and it's _fun_. It's what high school is supposed to be, she thinks. And it doesn't hurt the Timberwolves usually win, which makes their job pretty easy.

She loves game days. She's pissed as hell that she's letting Damon Salvatore ruin that for her.

She was a little harsh on him. She can admit it; she knows when she's being a bitch, and she was a bitch to him that afternoon. (It's not as if he didn't have it coming, but still.) He was right. He might be an egomaniac and a royal jerk when he wants to be, but she agreed to help him, and part of being a tutor is to help students work through frustration, not make it worse. She's supposed to encourage her students, not tear them down.

She doesn't _like_ being mean to him. She doesn't like that they can't seem to even have a civil conversation anymore, when once upon a time, he was just as much her best friend as Stefan was. She remembers, very vividly, a time when she couldn't imagine her life without both of them in it. And yeah, maybe he's not that same boy anymore, but she's not that same girl, either. A lot has happened her - to both of them, she's beginning to realize - to shape them into who they are today. Things are different now, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing.

She's standing on the track around the football field, contemplating whether or not she should track him down to apologize, when she sees Stefan approaching. She lifts her head to smile at him. "Big day, number sixteen."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right. I'm lucky they're even letting me suit up tonight," he laughs. "You seem like you're in a better mood today."

"It's game day," she reminds him. Her smile widens. "Game days are my favorite. Now you get to see what the hype is all about."

"Can't wait," he deadpans, baring his teeth in an obviously forced grin.

She punches him in the arm. "Go change. You're missing warm ups."

He squeezes her arm as he passes, and she turns her attention back to the field. She watches as Damon effortlessly tosses a perfect spiral to a full-speed Tyler Lockwood and hits him in stride. He really is an incredible player, she thinks. It comes so easily to him, but he doesn't seem to take it for granted. It makes her sad, though, that for him, football is what defines him. His performance in a sport is what dictates whether he's a success or a failure. It's like Giuseppe has nailed it into his head for so long that his athletic ability is what makes him worth anything at all that he believes it without question.

His eyes meet hers from across the field, and she lets the corner of her lip quirk up a little bit. She's gonna change that, she decides, and it starts with digging around for whatever redeeming qualities he has buried under the surface. It's not going to be easy, but she's never minded a challenge.

 

… … …

 

So yeah, this whole sitting on the bench, pretending to be part of a team thing? Not half as fun as it looks.

He didn't get a single snap. He didn't even get to put his helmet on after they ran out of the tunnel. It's not like he blames Coach Tanner. He can barely run a route, let alone catch a ball, so he wouldn't put him in either. It didn't bug him until he happened to look up in the stands and catch his father's eye. And he looked _furious_.

He took as long as he could to shower, to gather up his things, to make his way home. Hell, he even stayed to help clean up the bleachers after the game. He's hoping that by the time he finally gets home, Giuseppe will have given up and gone to bed, and Stefan can escape the lecture for tonight.

He should've known better.

"What took you so long?" Giuseppe stands from where he was seated at the kitchen table and moves to pour himself another glass of bourbon from the bottle on the counter. "Damon was home over an hour ago."

"I had other things to do," Stefan lies.

Giuseppe takes a sip of his drink, sets it down on the counter, looks up at his son. "You mind explaining to me why you didn't see the field tonight?"

Stefan fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Because I suck, Dad. Sticking me on the team doesn't change that I have next to no athletic ability."

Giuseppe's fist hits the counter and Stefan involuntarily steps back. "Don't speak to me that way. You've had two weeks to get yourself in game shape, and you couldn't even get on the field. I put you on this team so you could finally live up to the Salvatore name, and I will not let you disgrace it the way you did tonight."

He downs the rest of his bourbon, tosses the glass into the sink, turns back to Stefan as it shatters. It doesn't even phase him. "You will be competing for playing time next week, you hear me? You will work harder, Stefan. If you're not succeeding, it's because you're not working hard enough. You never did have the same work ethic your brother does, and if you don't suck it up, it's going to cost you."

Giuseppe pushes past him, deliberately shoving his shoulder hard against the door frame. "Prove to me that you deserve to be part of this family."

Stefan grips his shoulder, tears welling up in his eyes at the pain radiating through it. He turns so his father won't see - he learned a long time ago that weakness is _not_ in the Salvatore vocabulary - and sits down at the kitchen table. There's no blood, but it's definitely going to bruise, and he'll be feeling it for at least a few days. He supposes that's what his father wanted - a constant reminder of his failure. He wonders how most people ended up with perfectly normal, loving, supportive fathers and he ended up with a sadistic bastard.

Damon shuffles into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower. He spares a glance at his brother, heads for the fridge to fill up a glass of water. "What happened to you?" he asks.

Stefan takes a moment, shakes his head. "Just Dad reminding me that I'm a disgrace to the family, as usual."

"Yeah, well." Damon leans against the island in the middle of the kitchen, sips his water slowly. "It's kind of the only thing he's good at."

The two brothers are quiet for a moment before Stefan speaks again. "I suck at football."

Damon snorts. "Is that supposed to be news to me?"

Stefan rolls his eyes, decides to ignore the jab. "I know I suck, and to be honest, I could care less whether I ever see the field at all. But if I'm gonna survive this year, if I'm ever going to get Dad off my back, I need to make it look like I care."

Damon shrugs, sips his water again. "I could help you out."

Stefan blinks at him in surprise. "What?"

"Don't sound so shocked," Damon scoffs. "Look, you need help, and I could use you to help hold up the great Salvatore name, since I'm bound to fail it at some point." He smirks. "What do you say, brother?"

Stefan mulls it over for a second. He doesn't have many options at this point. He can either suck it up, try to figure it out on his own, and likely never see the field. He'll probably end up with a myriad of bruises to show for his continued failure. Or, he can let Damon help him, show his dad that he's trying, even if it's feeble and half-hearted, and maybe he'll have a chance to make it through his junior year unscathed.

He smirks, looks Damon in the eye. "I say you're on, brother."

 

… … …


	5. there's someone I've been missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "come home" by one republic + sara bareilles.

… … …

 

Saturday mornings after a game might be his least favorite, Damon thinks. He usually wakes up feeling every bit of whatever hits he took the night before. There's always a few bruises scattered across his torso, and thanks to his injury from last season, he'll probably wake up with a swollen wrist every Saturday, too. It's nothing he can't handle - he's had worse. But the stiffness and soreness in his muscles reminds him that he should probably get up and move his body, which is the _last_ thing he wants to do.

He got lucky this morning - Dad had some business to attend to at the car dealership he runs in town, so Damon didn't have to worry about being awoken at the crack of dawn to go for a run. He's gonna go for a run anyway, but at least this way he can do it on his own time, at his own pace. He doesn't mind running, to be honest. It's always been a good way for him to keep himself in shape, which keeps his father happy, while simultaneously giving him time to think, to clear his head. He does his best healing this way.

This whole new dynamic with Stefan is opening up old wounds that he really doesn't care to relive. When Damon joined the football team in middle school, Giuseppe's favoritism toward him became all the more pronounced, and though it made him uncomfortable at times, what son _doesn't_ want his father's approval? Stefan, however, took Damon's acquiescence as a betrayal, and pushed him away in retaliation. So while Damon gained a father, he lost a brother, and things have never been the same between them.

Which leads him to Elena. He needs to make things right with her. Not only because he needs her to help him keep his grades up - though that is certainly a motivating factor - but because he really does feel guilty. Yes, about the way he treated her last week, but also about the way he's treated her in the last few years. When Stefan pushed him away, he took Elena with him, and Damon was hurt, so he took it out on both of them. It took him a long time to accept that she didn't know what he was going through - neither of them did. He was angry with Stefan, because Stefan _should_ have known, but he didn't necessarily have to take it out on her. She was a really good friend to him - maybe the best friend he's ever had, aside from Stefan - and she didn't deserve the way he treated her. And he really fucking hates feeling guilty.

He doesn't know where to start, though. How do you apologize for four years' worth of anger-induced torment?

He jogs past her house - not on purpose, he swears - and contemplates knocking on the door. He thinks maybe if he sees her face, if he can gauge how she's feeling, maybe he would be able to decide the best way to approach her. But Stefan's dorky little red car is in the driveway, and he knows part of their deal was that Stefan wouldn't know about this. He's pretty sure Stefan doesn't even know he and Elena have been talking; showing up at her door unannounced might be a bit of a giveaway.

So he jogs home, decides maybe a simple text is a good place to start.

_Sorry I was an ass. It's what I do. Are we cool?_

He doesn't expect a response right away. She is with Stefan, after all. But his phone pings just a few moments later, and her retort makes him grin.

_You were an ass, I was a bitch. We're even._

He doesn't know that he'd go that far - he probably deserved at least 85% of what she dished out - but if she's gonna let him off the hook, he'd be stupid not to take it.

 

… … …

 

She can't decide which is more ironic: the fact that Stefan tells her that Damon offered to help him with football when that's the last thing Stefan really wants, or the fact that Damon's name appears on her phone screen just as Stefan is telling the story.

"Why would he want to help you?" Elena asks, trying to keep him distracted while she responds to Damon's text. His blunt apology makes her want to smile, but she doesn't want to give Stefan anything to ask questions about, so she quickly types out her response and locks her phone.

Stefan snorts. "He said he needs help holding up the 'great Salvatore name.' As if Dad hasn't made it clear to me at every turn that I'm not even worthy of the name."

Elena shrugs, takes a bite of her eggs. "Maybe he really is just trying to help you."

"Yeah, maybe," Stefan mutters. "I don't know why he would, though. Things have been so tense between us lately."

"I hear too much talking," Alaric interjects from the stove. "What's wrong with your breakfast? Did I make your eggs too spongy again, Stefan? You always were a whiny little bitch about your eggs."

Elena laughs at the scowl on Stefan's face as he aggressively collects a spoonful of his scrambled eggs to eat. Saturday morning breakfast at the Gilbert house is quite an affair, thanks to Ric. He showcased his breakfast cooking skills not long after he moved in three years ago, and once Stefan got wind of the feast, he almost immediately became a fixture at the Saturday breakfast table. It's been tradition ever since.

"Do you ever wonder if your dad treats Damon the same way he treats you?" Elena questions, tossing a grape into her mouth.

Stefan blinks at her. "Why would you even ask me that? Of course not," he insists. "Damon is the golden child. He can do no wrong in Dad's eyes. _I'm_ the disappointment."

"I'm just saying," she shrugs. "That kind of behavior isn't usually an isolated incident. Maybe the way he torments Damon is just different from the way he torments you."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Stefan says finally, sawing off a piece of pancake and shoving it in his mouth. "But I won't hold my breath."

Elena's phone rings, and Stefan furrows his brow. "Why is Caroline calling you?"

"Probably some stupid cheerleading stuff," Elena sighs, rolling her eyes. "Hello?"

"Are you busy today?" Caroline asks, skipping the pleasantries as if her phone call isn't completely out of the ordinary.

"Uh," Elena hedges. "I'm just finishing up breakfast-"

"Not now." Elena can practically hear Caroline rolling her eyes. " _Later_. Bonnie and I are going to the Grill to hang out and we wanted to see if you want to come."

Elena widens her eyes at Stefan, and he furrows his brow at her. "Um… yeah, I'm not busy. That sounds good."

"Great!" Caroline chirps. "I'll text you with the details."

Elena hangs up and looks over at Stefan, who's watching her expectantly. "What the hell was that?"

"Apparently I'm hanging out with Caroline and Bonnie this afternoon."

"Random," he comments. "Any particular reason why?"

Elena shrugs, biting into a strawberry. "She just said they're going to the Grill later and they wanted to see if I would come. Sounds pretty harmless."

"Anything involving _Caroline Forbes_ can't be harmless," Stefan laughs. "What do you think she's up to?"

"Who knows. But whatever it is, I won't let them drag me into it," she insists.

"Yeah, well, good luck." Stefan stands from the table and disposes of his dishes in the sink. "I've gotta go figure out how this thing with Damon is gonna work."

"You know," Alaric begins once Stefan's left the room. "It's probably about time you start hanging out with some new friends. I'm getting a little sick of that one."

"I heard that!"

 

… … …

 

The Mystic Grill is pretty much the center of social life in Mystic Falls. Business meetings, family outings, the occasional drunken night out - not to mention the high school students who frequently hang out at numerous tables ordering nothing but fries and soft drinks. If it's happening in Mystic Falls, the odds are it's happening here. Elena has so many memories of growing up here - birthday parties, late night meals when Jenna burned whatever she was trying to make for dinner, her first day of school tradition with Stefan. She can safely say she's never been interrogated here, though. Until now.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you," Elena laughs, picking another fry from the double order the three of them are splitting.

"Oh, please. You look so innocent, but I know the truth," Caroline narrows her eyes playfully. " _You're_ the reason he's resisting me."

Elena visibly winces. "Please don't ever imply anything like that ever again. We grew up together. He's literally like my brother." She remembers when she and Stefan were younger and their mothers used to joke about them growing up and getting married someday. She shudders at the thought.

"You're telling me you made it through puberty without ever looking twice at Stefan?"

Elena rolls her eyes. "Not all of us are completely controlled by our hormones, Caroline," she reminds her.

"Well," she scoffs. "You're missing out on all the fun." She smirks and sips her diet soda. "At least tell me you've noticed Damon."

_What?_ Elena practically spits out her drink. "Damon? What about Damon?"

"I knew it!" Caroline laughs. "You so had a crush on him."

"Leave her alone, Care," Bonnie chuckles. "We didn't invite her here so you could interrogate her about the Salvatore brothers."

"What are you talking about? That's exactly why I invited her."

Elena sighs. "Look, yes, Damon and I have history. That's not a secret. But we haven't even been friends in a really long time."

"Not the point," Caroline sing-songs. "You totally had eyes for him back in middle school, didn't you?"

She can feel her cheeks turning red and wills them to stop. "Stefan would've killed me."

"Ha!" Caroline sits back, crosses her arms over her chest, smirks smugly. "So you're not immune to the Salvatore charm and good looks. Noted."

Elena wants to bang her head against the table. If there's one thing she doesn't ever want to relive, it's the embarrassing crush she had on Damon in the seventh grade. She never told Stefan, because he would have thrown a fit. She remembers confiding in Jenna and feeling so silly and stupid about it. When things started to go south between the three of them, she tried to stay neutral; the war between the brothers was brewing and she didn't want any part of it. The more Stefan told her about the way Damon was acting, the way his father was treating him… she didn't want to believe it. Until that day freshman year when he mocked her in the hallway in front of everyone _. She's just a pathetic little orphan girl_. There was no teasing lilt to his voice, no playfulness in his eyes… just malice and anger. She skipped third period that day to cry in the bathroom and nurse her broken heart.

So, no thanks, she would rather not relive that time in her life.

"Good to know you've never had a thing for Stefan, though," Caroline continues.

"You're insufferable," Elena comments, chewing on another fry.

Caroline hums as she sips her drink. "I just know what I want."

"And what you want is Matt. _Your boyfriend_. Right?" Bonnie interjects.

"Of course," Caroline comments with an eye roll. "God, lighten up, you two."

She throws a fry at Elena, who gasps and throws one back. As the three of them sit there laughing and joking, she wonders if maybe Alaric is right. Maybe it's time for her to branch out a little bit, to make some new friends. She never would have pictured herself here, with Bonnie and Caroline, but she thinks maybe this is a good place to start.

 

… … …

 

"I don't even know why we're bothering with this," Stefan says as he and Damon make their way out to the football field. He can think of a thousand and one other things he'd rather be doing on a Sunday afternoon, including scrubbing his bathroom with a toothbrush. "We both know it's not going to make any difference."

"Relax," Damon smirks. "We just need you to be good enough to get on the field during a game so Dad will chill out. You don't need to suddenly turn into Jerry Rice."

"Who?"

Damon rolls his eyes. "Nevermind. The point is that you're not as far away from where you need to be as you think. You just need a few pointers." He throws his bag on the ground, tosses the football up and catches it again. He points the football down the field and nods at Stefan. "Go stand on the fifteen yard line."

Stefan does as he's told and turns to his brother expectantly. He's blindsided when Damon throws a perfect spiral his way and instead of catching it, he puts his hands up and ends up knocking it to the ground. "What the hell, man? I wasn't ready."

"That's the point," Damon says. "In a game, you have to catch the ball on the run. You don't get to just stand still and wait for the QB to throw it to you, unless you want to get flattened by a linebacker."

Stefan scowls and throws the ball back to Damon. "Just let me get warmed up, okay?"

Damon throws another perfect spiral, but with less velocity, and Stefan puts his hands up the way he was taught to catch it. "Oh, good. At least you know proper technique." He smirks. "So, what's Elena up to today? What does she do when you two aren't attached at the hip?"

"Jeremy's son was born yesterday," Stefan tells him. "They're all at the hospital today."

"Damn, Jeremy," Damon comments. "Didn't he just graduate high school, like, yesterday?"

Stefan ignores him, throws the ball back. "Why did you offer to help me?"

Damon furrows his brow, taken aback by the abrupt subject change. "I told you. I'm bound to screw up eventually, and if you're performing better, maybe Dad won't be so pissed off about it."

"That's bullshit." Stefan points the football at his brother before he tosses it back again. "Like Dad would ever be upset with anything you did."

Damon rolls his eyes, cradles the ball so it doesn't hit him in the stomach. "I know you don't believe me, smartass, but I have some experience with Dad's nagging. Maybe even more than you do."

Stefan scoffs. "Yeah, right. You've always been Dad's favorite. What could you possibly know about the way he treats me?"

Damon holds the ball, catches his brother's eyes. "More than you think."

Stefan just looks at him for a second, then puts his hands up to catch the ball again. "Whatever you've gone through with him doesn't hold a candle to what I've gone through, so don't even try. The last five years have been a living hell."

Damon rolls his eyes, and Stefan fights the urge to throw the football at his face. The fact that his brother is even trying to argue with him about this is absurd. It's no secret to anyone who knows anything about their family that Damon is the better Salvatore, and their father makes sure it stays that way. He's annoyed that Damon's trying to tell him he doesn't know what he's talking about.

"Get over yourself, man," Damon says finally. "It's not always all about you."

"It's _never_ about me," Stefan corrects him, throwing the football as hard as he can and forcing Damon to back up to catch it. "That's the problem."

 

… … …

 

On Monday after practice, Damon heads for the tutoring center. He hasn't spoken to Elena since their brief text exchange on Saturday morning, but he's hoping she'll be here for their scheduled session. He's already feeling like he's behind in a few of his classes, and he could really use her help to get him up to speed.

He's relieved when he pushes open the door and finds her sitting at a table, her earbuds in as she concentrates on whatever assignment she's working on. She must have showered after cheerleading today, because her hair is tied up in a bun and she's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt instead. He watches her for a moment, notices the way she bites her lip when she's trying to copy something, the adorable way her brow furrows when she's thinking. She's beautiful. He's always known it; it hit him like a freight train when he was twelve, how beautiful she really was. He didn't think those feelings were still there, but here they are, bubbling to the surface.

He clears his throat to shove them back down and gets her attention. She pulls her earbuds out, gives him a little smile. "Hey."

"Hey back." He approaches her slowly. "I wasn't sure if you'd be here."

She furrows her brow, reaches for her planner. "We have a session scheduled, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do," he confirms. "I just… wasn't sure where we stood. After last week."

She lets her lips quirk up at the corner a little bit. "I told you we were cool."

"I know, but…" he sighs. "Listen. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

"You already said-"

"I said sorry for being an ass. What I really meant was that I'm sorry for everything." He runs his hand through his hair, lets his backpack drop to the ground as he takes the seat across from her. "I was mad at Stefan for a long time, after things went bad, and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve that."

She tilts her head to the side. "No, you're right. I didn't."

"You were a really good friend to me, and I know that bridge is burned, but I'm hoping maybe we can call a truce," he says with a smirk. "For the sake of my grades and my football career."

Elena sighs, smiles a little. "I guess that sounds good." Damon extends his hand for her to shake, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement, and she giggles. "And bridges can be rebuilt, Damon. It doesn't have to be burned forever."

Her eyes bore into his, and he feels like he's twelve again, trying to fight back the strange urge to kiss her. He's always had a little bit of trouble resisting impulse when it comes to her, but even he knows where to draw the line. They just got back on somewhat stable footing; he doesn't want to rock the boat just yet. He has a feeling, though, that the longer he's around her, the more time he spends with her, it's gonna get more and more difficult to remember where that line is. He wonders if she'd let him cross it, when the time comes. Either way, he's gonna have a lot of fun finding out.

 

… … …


	6. a gateway to hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "temptation" by moby.

… … …

 

No matter how hard Stefan tries, he can't stop thinking about the things Damon said during their practice session on Sunday. He doesn't want to believe any of it, but the more he thinks about it, the more he has this nagging feeling like he doesn't know the whole story like the thought he did. For years, it's always been black and white to him; between the way his father treated him, and the way Damon treated him, and then the way his father fawned over Damon… he never thought there was more to it than that. Stefan wonders if maybe this whole time, he's only seen what he wanted to see, because it was easier to be mad at Damon and to resent him than it was to look a little deeper.

The only person he can think to talk to is Elena. She's the only one who went through everything with him, the only one who might be able to offer another perspective. He needs her to tell him he's being an idiot, that Damon's just manipulating him and he's falling prey to it. (He doesn't really think it's that simple, but he can hope, right?)

"I need to talk to you," he says when he approaches her at her locker Tuesday morning.

She startles, looks over at him. "Good morning to you, too, Stefan," she says sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm serious." He grabs her wrist and pulls her toward an empty classroom, shuts the door.

She pulls her wrist from his grasp. "Stefan, what's going on?" She studies his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I just…" he turns away from her, runs his hand through his hair, paces the room. Then he turns back to face her. "Remember what you said the other day? About how you think Dad treats Damon the same way he treats me?"

Elena nods slowly. "Yeah. Why? Did something happen?"

Stefan sighs, sits down at a desk, and she follows suit. "He said some things on Sunday, while we were practicing. Like how Dad pushes him maybe even more than he pushes me. And the more I think about it, the more I think maybe he's not lying."

Elena tilts her head to the side. "Does that bother you?"

"How could it _not_ bother me?" Stefan wonders. "All this time, I've thought I was the only victim of all this… _abuse_." He spits out the word like it's poison. "But what if I'm not? What if Damon's just as much of a victim as I am?"

Elena studies him for a moment, and he searches her eyes for the answers. "I don't think you're totally wrong," she says slowly, like she's trying not to say too much. He wishes she would just say whatever she's thinking. "I wouldn't say Damon's a victim, necessarily, but I think there might be some truth to what he's saying." He nods, hangs his head a little. "I think the only way you're ever going to know for sure is if you two finally hammer everything out, but that's going to take a little time. You just have to be willing to let it happen, Stefan."

"So much has happened," he reminds her. "He's been horrible to me, to us, for the better part of the last five years. Am I supposed to just forget about all of that? Pretend it never happened? Dad didn't do those things, Elena. _Damon_ did."

"You're right," she concedes. "Damon did all of that. No one made him treat us that way. But if you ever want to have a relationship with your brother again, you're going to have to let him apologize, and you're going to have to move past it."

"He's not going to apologize," Stefan snorts. "He doesn't care."

Elena hesitates. "If you care, Stefan - and it's obvious that you do - then deep down, on some level, Damon cares too."

He breathes out a long sigh, looks up at her in annoyance. "Why do you always have to make me think so hard about everything?"

She laughs. "You wouldn't have come to me if you weren't already thinking it."

She's right, but he can't quite go there just yet. There's too much tension still hanging between them, too many things left unsaid and too many bridges between them that are all but destroyed. He's not sure he _wants_ to let Damon back in, but he's starting to realize that with the way things are unfolding, at some point, he might not have a choice.

 

… … …

 

"You look nice today," Damon says when he comes into the tutoring center after practice on Wednesday. After his session on Monday, he still felt behind and she decided maybe he could use some extra help, so offered to help him out for a while before she goes to dinner with her family for Jenna's birthday tonight. She's a little more dressed up than she would usually be for a tutoring session, so she shouldn't be surprised that he would comment on it, but it doesn't stop the blush from lighting up her cheeks.

"Stop." She rolls her eyes, but she can't help but smile. "Flattery is not going to get you out of your calculus assignment."

Damon sighs, snaps his fingers in annoyance. "It was worth a shot." He smiles at her, sits down across from her. "Seriously, though. Got a hot date tonight? Stefan finally make his move?" He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

She lets out a surprised laugh and punches him in the shoulder. "Asshole," she mutters as he laughs. She tries to regain her composure. "Today's Jenna's birthday, so Alaric's taking us to dinner."

"Hmm." Damon looks over his shoulder as if he's deep in thought. "Hot Aunt Jenna. My twelve year old self had a serious crush on her."

"Damon!" She laughs.

"I'm serious," he smirks. "I used to tag along with Stefan to your house just to get a glimpse of her."

"You're a pig." She rolls her eyes, but she can't seem to wipe the smile off her face. "Stop trying to distract me."

"I am doing no such thing."

"You are not subtle. You wanted extra help, so here we are. Where's your textbook?"

He sighs dramatically. "Okay, okay, fine."

She watches him while he works, thinks back on her discussion with Stefan this morning. She wonders exactly what Damon said to him that got his mind going, wonders what that conversation would have looked like. And not for the first time, she wonders exactly what he's gone through in the last few years at the hands of Giuseppe Salvatore.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He looks up, smirks at her. "Now who's trying to distract who?"

She rolls her eyes. "Damon."

"Shoot," he says, looking back down at his book to continue working on his assignment.

She hesitates, then decides to just go for it. "What's your relationship with your dad like?"

He bristles a little bit, and she fears for a second that he'll shut down, but she watches as he tries to relax his shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… is it anything like what Stefan goes through?" She rests her chin in her hand, tries to watch his face, but he won't look up. "You told me things would get bad if he finds out about your grades. How bad is bad?"

Damon sighs. "Let me guess. Stefan opened his big mouth."

She rolls her eyes. "This doesn't have anything to do with Stefan. I'm not asking for him. I'm asking for me."

He twirls his pencil in his hand, takes a deep breath. "I don't know how bad it would get," he admits. "I've had glimpses of it over the years, his temper, but he doesn't let it go with me like he does with Stefan. It's more like…" He mulls it over. "It's more like I'm a pawn. Like he doesn't want me to succeed for myself, but because it would reflect well on him. Because he never got to be as great as he wanted to be, so he wants to live vicariously through me."

"So he's using you."

"Basically." He still won't meet her eyes, stares at a point on the wall across the room. "At first it felt really good to have him looking over my shoulder. It felt good to have him recognize something that I was doing. I liked that he was so invested in my success in football." He shrugs. "I didn't think anything of it, until one day freshman year, he made me run wind sprints after practice because my aim was a little bit off. I got so dehydrated I ended up on an IV in the hospital."

Elena's jaw drops. "What?" She looks at him closely. "Stefan never told me that."

"Stefan doesn't know." He finally looks over and meets Elena's eyes. "Dad took me to the hospital himself, waited while they gave me some fluids, then demanded they release me so he wouldn't have to admit to Mom that he screwed up. He berated me the whole way home about how I needed to be in better shape; that a better athlete would have been able to handle it. When we got home, he told Mom we were at the school late working on my aim."

She fights the urge to take his hand in hers. "Damon, that's terrible."

"Yeah, well." He looks away from her again. "I saw it for what it was after that. He didn't really care about me. He just didn't want his great name to be tainted, and my natural athletic talent made me a better pawn than Stefan would have been." He looks back at her. "If Stefan had gotten the athletic genes instead of me… the roles easily could have been reversed."

She studies his face for a moment. "Why didn't you ever tell Stefan about any of this?"

He shrugs. "By that point, he had already made up his mind about me. It wouldn't have made a difference."

"it could have."

She catches a peek of a smile. "Elena Gilbert, ever the optimist." He lets out a breath. "Hindsight's twenty-twenty. It's also a royal bitch, so I try not to think about it too much. I can't change it now."

She covers her hand with his. "Thank you for telling me that."

He smirks at her, turns his hand so he can grasp hers. "You've always had a way of making me talk even when I didn't want to."

She smiles at him, looks down and watches as his thumb moves across her knuckles. A shiver goes up her spine, and she pulls her hand away. She checks her watch. "Shit," she mumbles.

He clears his throat, sits back in his chair. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you late."

"No, I'm not late, but if I don't leave now I will be." She smiles. "I'll lock the door on my way out, but it doesn't lock from the inside, so just make sure it's shut all the way when you leave."

He smirks. "Tell Hot Aunt Jenna I said happy birthday."

She shoots him a look on her way out. "I definitely will _not_ tell her that."

She hears his laughter as the door shuts behind her and she can't help but smile. She wonders what Stefan would think if he knew everything Elena knows now. She can't tell him - for obvious reasons, but also because she wouldn't betray Damon's trust that way. He has his reasons for keeping it to himself. But she wonders how much of the pain and distance between them could have been avoided without all the secrets and misunderstandings. Somehow, she needs Stefan to see what she now sees: that Damon's just as hurt, just as bruised, just as much a victim as he is.

 

… … …

 

Stefan's barely opened his locker on Thursday morning before Matt practically ambushes him.

"Salvatore," he greets him. "I need to talk to you."

"Cant imagine what about," Stefan mumbles.

"What's going on between you and Caroline?"

Stefan takes a step back, breathes out an incredulous laugh. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Come on, man," Matt sighs. "I'm not trying to start a fight here. She's been acting weird lately, and I know you two have been talking. I'm just tired of it and I need answers. I just want you to tell me, man-to-man. What's going on?"

"Look, man," Stefan starts. "I know you don't know me, but that's not the kind of person I am. In my eyes, she's taken, off-limits, and that's the end of it. Even if I did like her… I wouldn't do that. So I hate to say it, but maybe it's not me you should be worried about."

He studies Matt's face for a second. He doesn't look angry, or spiteful, or even sad. He just looks tired. Like he's been trying to solve the puzzle that is Caroline Forbes for so long and he's made so little progress that he's on the verge of giving up. They're not friends, but for a second, Stefan feels for the guy. It's obvious that he's crazy about her, and it's even more obvious that it's all about appearances for her. He wonders what kind of person would lead someone on for almost a year when she's not even interested.

Not someone he wants to be involved with, that's for sure.

"Sorry I couldn't help you out, man," Stefan says.

"Hey," Matt sighs. "At least now I know what the problem is. If it's not you, it's either her or me. And I'm all in, so…" he sighs. "I didn't mean to dump on you. Thanks for being honest."

"Anytime," Stefan says, watching as Matt turns and walks down the hall. He wonders how the hell he got to this point, where Matt Donovan thinks that Caroline Forbes would rather be with _him_. Caroline Forbes, the cheerleading captain. He almost snorts at the thought, because yeah, she's been flirting with him, but he never really thought it meant anything. He was fresh meat; as much as he hated being called that, that's the kind of person she is, so he didn't really think anything of it. But now…

Fuck. This new life he's living is like the twilight zone, or something.

 

… … …

 

He probably wouldn't admit it if anybody asked, but Damon's actually enjoying teaching Stefan how to play football. It's nice to be reminded of the basics; it takes him back to a time when things were simpler, when he wasn't worried about performing well for the scouts or beefing up his stats for his dad. A time when he didn't have to think so much and could just _play_. The added bonus that things aren't so tense between them anymore doesn't hurt, either.

"How well do you know Caroline Forbes?" Stefan asks him as they warm up for another practice session.

Damon snorts. "Who _doesn't_ know Caroline Forbes? I'm pretty sure she's hit on every guy on the team at least once. She's harmless, though." His left quad cramped up at practice today, so he holds his ankle behind him to stretch it out a bit. "Why? You interested?"

"She's with Donovan," Stefan reminds him.

"So?" Damon catches the ball Stefan throws at him. "You can still like her even if she has a boyfriend. You just can't do anything about it."

"It doesn't matter," Stefan sighs. "Nevermind. Forget I asked."

Damon shrugs. He wants to push his brother for answers, but he doesn't think they've hit that level quite yet, so he'll leave it alone for now. "Anything else you wanna ask me before we start?" he jokes.

"Actually." Stefan picks up the ball, tosses it between his hands and approaches Damon. "What did you mean the other day? About Dad?"

Damon sighs, shakes his head. "Look, just forget it."

"No, I wanna know." Stefan holds the ball still in his hands, tosses it to his brother, puts his hands on his hips. "What have you not been telling me for the last few years? Is it really that bad?"

"It's not better or worse than the way he treats you," Damon admits. "It's just different. You have this idea in your head that I have the better end of the bargain, but I'm not so sure that's true. The only difference between you and me is that he happens to find me useful to further his own agenda."

Stefan furrows his brow. "What the hell does that mean?"

Damon rolls his eyes. "It means that Dad only cares because my athletic ability allows him to relive his own glory days and undo all his mistakes vicariously through me."

Stefan scoffs. "I still don't see how that's the same. You've never felt like you're an outsider in your own family; like it wouldn't even matter if you weren't there."

"You're right, Stefan." Damon holds his arms out to the side. "You're the victim here. I'm just whining for no reason. Can we practice now? I'm tired and I want to go home."

Stefan holds his hands up in defeat, and Damon feels like he wants to punch something. He's talked about his dad more in the last two weeks than he ever has, and he's sick of it. Giuseppe doesn't deserve that much of his attention or his energy, and he's done wasting his time talking about it. It's not going to change anything. This is his reality, at least until he can figure out how to get as far away from this place as humanly possible. He's learned to live with it; he wishes everyone else would just _let him_.

 

… … …

 

When Caroline invites she and Bonnie over for a movie night on Thursday, Elena should know 'movie night' is code for 'I have boy problems and I need advice.' It is Caroline, after all, and Elena's pretty sure every problem she's ever had involves a boy in some fashion.

"It sounds like what you need is a good, old-fashioned pro-con list," Bonnie suggests, pulling out her phone to start a new note. "Reasons to stay with Matt versus reasons to break up with Matt."

They're all sitting on the floor in Caroline's bedroom, pigging out on junk food and candy while Caroline vents about her crumbling relationship with Matt. An old chick flick is playing on the TV in the background, but they lost interest less than ten minutes in. Who needs romantic comedies when they can just make fun of Caroline's ever so dramatic love life?

"Ugh," Elena laughs. She shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth. "This feels so wrong."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "If you're not going to help, Elena, then keep your mouth shut." She turns to Bonnie. "Reason to stay number one: The whole cheerleading-captain-star-quarterback thing. We're practically destined to be together."

"Are you forgetting the part where Matt is the _backup_ quarterback?" Elena reminds her.

Caroline ignores her. "Reason to break up number one: he's _obviously_ the clingy, jealous type. Ew."

"I don't understand how you've been with him for almost a year and you're just now figuring that out."

"Reason to stay number two: he treats me like gold ninety-eight percent of the time. That's hard to find in high school boys."

"How does he treat you the other two percent of the time?"

"Elena," Bonnie laughs.

"Nobody asked for comments from the very unhelpful peanut gallery," Caroline glares. "This is a big deal, Elena. Matt could be the one. I don't want to make the wrong decision here."

Elena rolls her eyes. "Okay, okay. Here's the thing. If you're even contemplating breaking up with him, that's probably a bad sign to begin with."

Bonnie nods. "That's a good point."

"The fact that you even need to have this conversation," Elena continues, "means you're not just doubting that he's the one, you're doubting that you even want to be with him. You're stringing him along, Caroline. You've been flirting with Stefan for the last three weeks, and now with this Klaus guy in the picture, you're setting yourself up for way more drama than you need."

Caroline sighs. "I don't want to believe you, but I know you're right."

"Matt deserves better," Elena finishes. "And so do you. If you're not happy, it's time to end it."

Bonnie drops her phone on the carpet, grabs a handful of chips from the bowl. "I guess that settles that."

Caroline covers her face with her hands, lets out a frustrated groan. "I'm done talking about this." She pops a Hershey's kiss into her mouth, smiles at them mischievously. "Now It's time for you two to spill your guts."

"I think it's been well established that you're the one with the complicated love life, Caroline," Elena laughs.

Caroline huffs. "We just spent the last hour talking about my drama. Come on, I know you two aren't that boring. Give me something juicy. Bonnie, you are awfully quiet over there."

Bonnie's cheeks color immediately. "What are you talking about?"

Caroline's eyes light up. "I knew it! You're hiding something. _Spill_."

"Well…" Bonnie sighs. "I guess I could use some advice." Caroline claps her hands together and turns to face Bonnie, her smile wide with anticipation. "There is this guy I've sort of… been talking to lately."

"I cannot believe you haven't told me this yet," Caroline whines. "I _thought_ you were my best friend."

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "The thing is, he flirts with me, and he acts like he likes me, but he won't make a move. I know he's single, so I don't know what the hold up could be."

"We could be a lot more helpful if you'd tell us who it is," Elena prompts.

Bonnie closes her eyes, squeezes them shut. "Enzo St. John."

"Oh my god!" Caroline squeals. "I knew it! I so knew it! I saw you staring at him all dreamy last week during cheerleading practice. I didn't know you two have been talking!"

"It's just little conversations here and there when we run into each other," Bonnie explains. "We're in the same Spanish class, so he'll text me about assignments sometimes, or I'll run into him in the hallway and we'll say hello. And every time we talk, I get this vibe, like we're completely in sync. And then… nothing."

Elena frowns. "Enzo is Damon's best friend, right?"

"Duh," Caroline rolls her eyes. "Try to keep up, Elena. They've been friends since… well, since whatever happened between him and Stefan. And you, I guess. Which we'll get to next."

Elena puts her hands up in surrender, and Bonnie glares at Caroline. "Subtle."

Caroline shrugs innocently. "I'm just saying." She focuses back on Bonnie. "So he hasn't asked you out or anything?"

" _No_ ," Bonnie says in exasperation. "That's the point. I don't know what's going on, because I keep sending all the right signals, and I can't tell if he's not picking them up or if he's just not interested."

Elena takes a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie. "Why can't you just ask him out?"

The two of them look over at her in shock. Caroline scoffs. "Please. Girls don't ask the guy out."

"No, maybe she's right," Bonnie realizes. "Maybe I'm making a mistake by sitting around waiting for him to make the move. Who says I can't ask him out if I want to?"

"Um, hello," Caroline insists. "Like, _every_ dating code that exits on the planet! If you make the first move you come off looking desperate."

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Fine. I'll just keep waiting around like I really _am_ desperate. That makes so much more sense."

"Glad you agree." Caroline turns to Elena. "Okay. Your turn. I know you have some drama with the Salvatore brothers and I wanna hear about it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elena hedges, taking a sip of her soda. "Stefan's my best friend, Damon's not. End of story."

"Except," Caroline begins smugly, "that I saw Damon coming out of the tutoring center after practice on Monday, and you were not far behind him."

Elena turns white as a sheet. "You saw that?"

"I knew it!" Caroline squeals. "Man, I'm good at sniffing out a scoop. Spill, missy. Don't skimp on the details."

Elena sighs. "Listen to me. What we talk about here stays in this room, okay? Stefan _cannot_ find out about any of this."

Bonnie's eyes widen. "Wow, this is juicy. Now I'm interested."

"Damon's grades are slipping, and he asked me to tutor him so he can stay eligible to play."

"That's it? That's all that's going on?" Caroline asks, furrowing her eyebrows.

Elena rolls her eyes. "You don't understand. This thing between Stefan and Damon… it's not just normal brotherly arguing. It runs way deeper than that, and it has for a long time now. Damon's treated Stefan - and me, frankly - like dirt for the last few years, and if Stefan knew I agreed to help him…" she shudders. "He just can't find out, okay?"

Bonnie holds her hands up. "We won't tell. But if It's such a big deal, then why did you agree to help him in the first place?"

"It's… complicated," Elena sighs. "There's a lot of history between Damon and I. Their family situation is not great, to say the least. If his dad ever found out about his grades, things could get bad for him. I guess there was a lot that went into it, but the point is it's happening, and I hate lying to Stefan about it."

"So don't," Caroline shrugs. "It's tutoring. It's harmless. If Stefan's pissed at you about that, it's his problem."

"He won't see it that way," Elena insists. "Trust me. I just need to keep his grades up for the season and keep Stefan from finding out."

The more she talks about it, the more she wonders what the hell she's gotten herself into. There's too many pieces in play here, too many things that can go wrong. Caroline smirks at her, and Elena knows her plan is a long shot, but she has to at least try, because she's already dug herself a pretty deep hole. She just has to keep the walls from caving in on her before she can climb out.

No pressure, or anything.

 

… … …

 

Another Friday night, another game Stefan spends warming the bench.

He'd be upset except that he's actually improving, and Coach told him today that if he continues to show progress in practice, that he might put him out there for a couple of plays next week. He won't be stealing Tyler Lockwood's starting spot anytime soon, but that's not his ultimate goal, so it's okay. He just needs to make it through the season without his dad throwing him through a wall.

He waits it out so he's the last one to leave the locker room - again - but this time, Giuseppe is leaning against the wall waiting for him when he exits. _Shit_. "I know what you're gonna say," Stefan starts.

Giuseppe grabs Stefan by the collar of his shirt, shoves him against the wall. "You listen to me, son," Giuseppe seethes. "This is two weeks in a row now that you've put a damper on the good Salvatore name. You'd better start pulling your weight, Stefan, or these little talks of ours will start getting more painful for you."

Stefan feels his shoulder blade being crushed against the cinderblock and wants to tell him they're already pretty painful, but he knows that won't get him anywhere. "I'm getting better, Dad. Ask Damon - I've been working really hard. Coach says if I keep improving, he'll put me in next week."

Giuseppe shoves him against the wall one more time, steps back, straightens out his shirt. "You'd better hope that's true," he threatens. "My patience is quickly running out, Stefan."

He finally turns and walks away, and Stefan peels himself away from the wall. He feels the bruise from last week radiating pain in his shoulder, wonders if his dad's 'lecture' made it worse. He just wants to go home, ice his shoulder, and sleep this off, but he promised Elena he'd meet her at this party some new cheerleader is throwing, and he wants to groan in frustration. He's not in the mood to play nice with people he could care less about, but he promised her, and she's big on promises, so. He supposes he'll just have to suck it up. _Story of my life_.

 

… … …

 

Elena's never been a fan of parties like these. She doesn't really see the point. Or she didn't, until she started hanging out with Caroline and Bonnie and actually had someone to talk to at things like this. But right now, her two friends are nowhere to be found - she figures Caroline's probably off somewhere with Matt and Bonnie's trying to find Enzo - and Stefan hasn't shown up yet.

"Having fun yet?" She turns and finds Rebekah approaching her with an extra solo cup in her hand. "You look like you could use one of these."

Elena forces a smile and takes the cup from her politely. "Thanks." She takes a small sip and wants to spit it right back out - nothing tastes quite as bad as cheap beer. "Great party."

Rebekah shrugs. "Figured it's the best way to start to get to know everyone." Elena follows her eyes and watches as Stefan makes his way through the crowd, searching for her. "Especially that one right there. What's his deal? You two are inseparable. Is he off limits?"

Elena snorts. "What am I, his matchmaker?" She smiles at Rebekah. "Excuse me." She pushes her way through and catches Stefan by the arm. "Hey. What happened? You look like…"

"Like I just got ambushed by my psychotic father?" He takes Elena's drink from her hand, chugs the contents, grimaces. "Yes, well, there's a reason for that."

Elena's heart drops into her stomach. "Come on, let's go get some air." She pulls him through the crowd and onto the back deck, where it's less crowded and the music isn't thumping in their ears. "So your dad ambushed you. What did he say? Are you okay?"

He sighs. "I'm fine, I guess," he grumbles. "It wasn't anything worse than anything he's ever said to me before."

Elena runs her hand down his arm sympathetically. "You didn't have to come, especially after that," she tells him. "You should have just called me. We could have gone out for pizza or something."

He forces a smile. "I promised you. Besides, maybe the cheap beer will cloud my head enough that I'll be able to sleep through the pain in my shoulder tonight."

She feels her blood run cold. "Your dad…"

Stefan shakes his head. "It's fine. I promise, it's fine. It's just bruised."

Elena puts her hands on his shoulders, forces him to look at her. "Listen to me. I want you to promise me that if things get bad, you'll come to me. Okay? You know Jenna and Alaric would help you in a heartbeat."

He lets out a breath, nods. "I know. I can handle it, though. Really."

"But if you can't…"

"I'll come to you, I promise." She searches his eyes, watches as the corner of his mouth quirks up in a grin. "Stop worrying. You're gonna get premature wrinkles."

She thinks about berating him for not taking her seriously, but the last thing he needs right now is another lecture, so she lets it go for now. "I'll have you to blame for that, then," she smirks. "Come on, let's get you that beer."

She knows he's brushing it off, but she has a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knows Giuseppe is emotionally abusive, but she never thought he would actually lay a hand on his son. She should have seen it coming, honestly, with the way things have been escalating between them lately. She just wants to protect him. After Damon told her what their father did to him… she won't let that happen to Stefan, she promises herself. She won't let Giuseppe tear him down that way. But as she watches Stefan down beer after beer, she wonders if maybe she's already too late.

 

… … …


	7. you left me in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "cosmic love" by florence + the machine.

 … … …

 

Between his talk with Matt last week and the way Caroline's been eyeing him lately, Stefan feels like he needs to regain some sense of control over the situation, and the only way he can think to do that is to talk to Caroline. He needs to let her know that he's not okay with the way things are going, that he won't be the reason she throws away her relationship. (He's giving himself a little too much credit, but judging by his conversation with Matt, he might not be that far off the mark.)

So he approaches her at her locker on Monday morning, and she looks up, sends him a flirty smile. "Mr. Salvatore," she croons. "What a pleasant surprise."

He can't help but smirk back at her. "Listen," he starts. "We need to talk."

"Ooh, sounds ominous," she teases. "You're so serious all the time, Stefan. Lighten up a little. You've got a great smile."

"You need to back off, Caroline," he insists, and she recoils. He feels bad for a second, but it seems that she responds best to harsh reality, so he's not gonna sugarcoat it for her. "You need to stop with the flirting and make things right with Matt."

She scoffs. "Like you have any idea what's going on in my relationship with Matt." She slams her locker door shut, turns to face him. "What makes you think this little flirtation we've got going means anything at all to me? You're not special, Stefan. This is just how I am."

She's right. It _is_ just how she is, but she's also lying, because he can tell he hurt her feelings, so he just ignores her jabs at him. "He really loves you," he reminds her, because she already knows. "Trust me. You don't wanna mess that up."

"You give yourself way too much credit, Salvatore," she sneers. "Like I'm gonna throw away a relationship like this one on an asshole like you."

He holds his hands up in defeat. "You can say whatever you want, but you and I both know you've got one foot out the door. It's obvious to anyone who pays close enough attention, and you either need to make things right or break it off. Either way, what you're doing isn't fair to Matt. Or yourself."

She looks up at him then, and the ice in her eyes melts ever so slightly. Their eyes lock for a few seconds, and he watches her face carefully, notices the resignation and sadness he sees there. He knows that she knows he's right, and it sucks.

Then, in a split second, her face hardens again. "Fine. You've said your piece," she says haughtily. "I'm done listening to this. You can go now."

He turns and walks in the other direction, tries to catch his breath. The way their eyes locked… it was like he could see straight down into her soul, and she could see straight into his. He could see every insecurity, every damaged reason why she treats guys the way she does. He thinks he's been able to see right through her from the start. She's been burned before, and she just wants someone to understand, someone to remind her that she's worth it. She doesn't _need_ it - that's obvious to him, too - but she wants it. She _craves_ it. He finds himself wondering if he could be the one to give that to her, if things were different. But they're not, and she's Caroline Forbes and he's Stefan Salvatore, and there really isn't a world in which those two names go together. So he keeps on walking and doesn't look back.

 

… … …

 

When Damon gets to the tutoring center on Monday afternoon, the first thing he notices are the bags under Elena's eyes. She looks like she hasn't gotten a good night's sleep all weekend. In fact, now that he's studying her face, she looks distraught. She's chewing on her nails and staring off into space; she hasn't even noticed him standing there, staring at her.

"Elena."

She practically jumps out of her skin, then forces a smile when she finally looks up at him. "Oh, hey. Ready to get started?"

"Sure." He eyes her as he sits down across from her. "Are you okay?"

She looks over at him, meets his eyes, and her shoulders collapse in on her body. "No," she admits. "I'm really not. I've been worried about Stefan all weekend."

He furrows his brow. "What's wrong with Stefan?"

"Your dad ambushed him after the game on Friday," she says. "You didn't know? He came to the party complaining about how his shoulder was hurting."

Now Damon remembers. "Yeah, they got into it last Friday, too. Dad shoved him a little too hard into the door frame in the kitchen."

Her eyes widen. "You just let him do that?"

"What was I supposed to do, Elena? Retaliation only makes things worse." She stares him down, at he stares right back at her. "Stefan's a big boy. He can take care of himself. I've been doing it for years. We both have."

Elena stares at him for a long moment before she lets out a long breath and runs her hand down her face. "Will you just… tell me if anything else happens? I made him promise, but he's never the first one to ask for help when he really needs it."

He wants to roll his eyes, but she wouldn't be asking him if she wasn't truly worried. "Fine, I'll keep an eye on baby bro," he concedes. He watches her for a moment, notices again how she spaces out, stares off into space like she's completely preoccupied. "Hey." She looks over at him. "I have an idea."

"That doesn't sound good."

"Let's just blow off tutoring today," he suggests.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right. You're doing better, but not _that_ good."

"Not for me," he chuckles. "For you. You look like you could use a chance to let off some steam. Let's go do something fun."

"Like what?" she asks, but she's already packing her stuff in her backpack. "We're trying to keep this thing a secret, remember? We can't just go out for pizza or something."

"Let's just drive," he suggests. "We can find something a few towns over. And even if we don't, at least we'll just get out of here for a little while."

He watches as she mulls it over, then smirks as she sighs in defeat. "Fine. My head's too fuzzy to teach you anything, anyway. But you're driving."

He doesn't mind that so much, he thinks as he looks over at her, riding shotgun in his Camaro. With the top down, her long hair flies out behind her, and she props her feet up on the dash, smiles as the wind hits her face. They don't talk much; there really isn't much to say. They just drive and drive and drive until it gets dark, and he doesn't even know what town they're in, but she doesn't protest when he pulls into a gravel lot outside a carnival. There must be some kind of special event going on, but they don't bother to ask.

"You still suck at skee-ball," he comments with a smirk, sipping on his slushie.

She punches his arm with her free hand, and he laughs. "It's no secret that you have more athletic ability than I do." He bought her a corn dog as a consolation price after he kicked her ass at both skee-ball and the ring toss game, and she takes a bite of it now. "It's not a fair fight."

"You're just mad because I've won at every game so far."

"My god," she laughs. "How could I have forgotten about your competitive streak?"

"It's part of my charm," he smirks.

He watches as she scarfs down her corn dog, laughs when she almost drops her drink all over the ground. He'd honestly forgotten how much fun they used to have together, but he's definitely gotten a nice reminder tonight. She's adorable when she lets loose. She's so much different with him here than she is at school; she's playful and relaxed and she just looks happy. He remembers a time when getting her to smile was he and Stefan's collective goal every day, and he loves that her smiles come so freely now. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's her.

Not for the first time, he wonders what Stefan would think if he saw them together. He knows they're just friends, but he's never quite been able to get a read on what Stefan's true feelings for Elena are. Is he secretly in love with her? Does he think of her like a sister? He always thought he would get his answer when Stefan finally made a move, but he hasn't, and Damon's curious. (He also just kind of wants to know how much competition he's facing, but he's getting ahead of himself.)

That brings him to another question he's been wanting to ask her all night. "Can I ask you something?" She nods as she sips her drink, so he continues. "Why are you so afraid of Stefan knowing about this?"

"Is that a joke?" she laughs. "This is Stefan we're talking about."

"Come on, I'm serious," he insists. "I really don't get it."

She veers to the right and takes a seat at a nearby bench, and he sits down next to her, watching her expectantly. "When everything… changed, all those years ago," she starts, "Stefan was really hurt for a while. He felt like you just cast him aside, like you just forgot about him." Damon wants to interject, but he doesn't really know what he'd say, so he keeps his mouth shut. "I think he feels that he and I have this pact. Like there's solidarity between us because we were both on the same side at the time. He would feel so betrayed if he knew I was helping you out this way, after everything that's happened."

"But things are better between us now," Damon reasons. "They're not great, but they're better. You really think he'd still be pissed off about it?"

"It wouldn't be so much about you now," she concedes. "It would be more about me, that I've been going behind his back and lying to him for weeks. I don't know if he would ever forgive me if he knew." She sighs. "He's my best friend, Damon. He's the only one who's been by my side through absolutely everything." Okay, that one hurts. "I don't want to hurt him, but…"

He waits for her to finish. "But…"

"But now that I know the truth…" she looks over at him, meets his eyes. "It's getting harder for me to keep my mouth shut, you know? There's so much that he doesn't know, so many things that could change his mind."

"But if you tell him part of it, then you have to tell him everything," Damon fills in.

"Exactly," she agrees. "And I don't know how to do that without ruining everything."

He doesn't know why he turned the conversation in this heavy direction, especially since the whole point of this was to take her mind off things, so he decides he's done with this discussion. "It's okay," he smirks, standing from the bench and pulling her with him. "I don't mind being your dirty little secret."

The sound of her laugh is music to his ears, and the way she links her arm with his as they head for the exit makes his stomach turn over a little bit. He's right back to being twelve again, like a fucking middle schooler with a crush who will make a fool out of himself just to impress a girl, and he kind of wants to punch himself in the face for it. But as they drive back into town and she sings along with the radio at the top of her lungs, she looks over and gives him a little smile, and he knows he's a goner.

 

… … …

 

"You can't do that!"

"You can too! This is the way we've always played!"

"Well, it's wrong, and I won't be an accomplice to cheating!"

"This is the way we've always played _Uno_ , Stefan," Jenna laughs, standing up from where they're all sitting around the kitchen table to refill the bowl of chips. "You can play a card after a draw two, but you can't after a draw four."

"This is definitely not in the rule manual," Stefan huffs. "You're all cheaters. How did I not realize this before?"

"Dude," Jeremy laughs. "You need to _chill out_. It's just a damn game."

Elena smiles from the other side of the table where she's holding her little nephew. She looks down at him, lets him wrap his little fist around her finger as he snoozes in her arms. Baby Grayson took longer than they thought to get here, but he was so worth waiting for. She knows she's a goner every time he looks up at her with his big green eyes, or gives her that little gummy grin (she's pretty sure it's just gas, but it's cute no matter which way you spin it). When Jeremy and Anna showed up to surprise her for dinner tonight, she let everyone else hold the baby before her so that she could hog him for the rest of the night. Plus, she figures introducing a new baby is the perfect opportunity to take Stefan's mind off of things, and to subtly make up for her little adventure with Damon the other night.

It's not that she didn't have fun with Damon, because she did. She loved seeing that side of him again, the fun, carefree side that reminds her of when they were kids and he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders. She loved the reminder that he really is the same Damon she knew way back when. But she wasn't lying when she told him that knowing the truth, knowing what's really going on, makes it a thousand times harder for her to keep her mouth shut. And she feels unbearably guilty knowing that while Stefan is going through everything, she's goofing off and sneaking around with Damon.

"You're a million miles away tonight," he comments as they sit in the living room a while later, after Jeremy and Anna have taken baby Grayson home and Jenna and Alaric decided to call it a night. They've got old _Friends_ reruns playing with the TV muted while they chat.

"I've been worried about you," she says, although she knows that's not the real reason for her distraction. It is true, though. "I've hardly seen you these past few days."

"I told you, it's fine," Stefan insists. "He's not like that all the time. Not unless I give him a reason to be."

"Don't do that," she says sternly. "Do _not_ blame this on yourself. It's not your fault he can't seem to manage his anger without hurting you."

"It's not that dramatic," he chuckles. "I know you're worried, and I love you for that, but stop. I can handle it, I promise." She opens her mouth to respond, but he quickly changes the subject. "I talked to Caroline today."

"Oh, yeah?" She decides she'll bite. "What did you talk about?"

"Mostly I just told her to back off and make things right with Matt," he shrugs. "Did I tell you he came up to me last week and asked me what was going on between us?"

"No!" She whacks his arm. "How could you have not told me that?! He really asked you what was going on?"

"Straight up." Stefan ducks to avoid another whack. "I think he really genuinely cares about her, and he's afraid she's got one foot out the door, which we all know she does. I felt bad for the guy, so I took it up with her."

"Did you tell her what he said?"

"No, I wouldn't do that," he says. "It's not my place. But I did tell her that he loves her, and she should either make it right with him or break it off, but it's not fair to string him along like this."

Elena nods. "Bonnie and I told her the same thing, last week. I wonder when she'll get up the nerve to finally make up her mind." She rolls her eyes. "I really don't understand that girl."

"Yeah, well, on top of that, Rebekah pretty much asked me out yesterday," Stefan responds.

Elena widens her eyes at him. "Dude, what else aren't you telling me?"

Stefan holds his hands up, laughs. "That's it, I swear."

"What did you say?"

"I hardly know her," Stefan reminds her. "And she didn't really _ask_ me, just said she'd like to get to know me better, but the implications were clear."

"So now you have _two_ blonde cheerleaders after you," Elena teases. "Your life has turned into an episode of _The Bachelor_."

He shoves her away, and she can't help but laugh, because as bad as this football thing has been, as much as he's hated it, it's apparently done _wonders_ for his love life. She doesn't know if he would see that as a bright spot, but as much as he whines about it, he certainly doesn't seem to hate it. He needs all the bright spots he can get.

 

… … …

 

It's been a long time coming, Caroline thinks, this conversation they're about to have. She knew as soon as he asked her if he could stop by her house after practice Wednesday afternoon. He never asks, he just shows up, and if that wasn't a dead giveaway, the exhaustion in his face and the resignation in his voice would have done it. He's just _done_ , and to be honest, she doesn't blame him.

Stefan was right, about everything. She kind of hates how well he hit the nail on the head, because it made her feel about two inches tall. And that moment when their eyes locked… it was like he saw right down into her soul, and she saw right into his. She's never felt more connected to anyone than she did in that moment, and it scared the hell out of her. She put up her defenses, pushed him away, but she knows he saw right through her. She doesn't really know how to feel about that.

The bottom line is that it put things into perspective for her. She's been stringing Matt along for longer than she wants to admit, and she needs to let him go, not just for him, but for herself. It's not that she doesn't love him, because she does; she might have even been _in_ love with him at some point. But if she ever was, she's not anymore, and it's not fair to either of them to keep this going. She's not happy, and she knows he's not either, and it's just time.

It goes pretty well, as break-ups go. There's no drama, or fighting, or yelling; he just tells her he cares about her, and he always will, but it's just not working out anymore, and she agrees. She doesn't expect to cry, but when he gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead as he's leaving, she feels a little piece of her heart break. She closes the door behind him and lays down on the couch, watches mindless television while silent tears stream down her face.

She's mad at herself, she realizes. She has an uncanny ability to sabotage every good thing in her life. She did it with her dad after her parents got divorced, and with her mom when she went through her rebellious phase last year, and now with the one guy who's ever treated her like she's even remotely important to him. She can't ever just be happy with what she's got; she's always looking for something better, for something _more_ , and it's cost her pretty much everyone she cares about. Enough is enough, she decides. She needs to grow up, needs to figure out a way to stop the cycle, before she wakes up one day and realizes she really does have nothing.

 

… … …

 

Damon Salvatore is not the type of guy to zone out on a girl. He's the kind of guy that girls usually zone out on, if he's being honest. He doesn't get butterflies in his stomach, and he doesn't dwell on the conversations they've had, and he doesn't get so distracted watching cheerleading practice that he lets Enzo throw a ball straight at his head. Which is exactly what happens Thursday afternoon during warm ups.

"Dude," Enzo comments, laughing. "What planet are you living on these days?"

 _Planet Elena_ , he thinks to himself. "I don't even know, man," he says instead. He picks the ball up off the ground and throws it back to his best friend.

"Who were you staring at over there?" Enzo wonders, looking over his shoulder at the cheerleading squad as they practice. "That new Rebekah girl _is_ pretty hot."

"It's not her," Damon blurts, then realizes that now he really does have to explain himself. "It's Elena."

" _Elena_?" Enzo chuckles, throwing the ball back to him. "Stefan's dorky tutor friend?"

Damon throws a perfect spiral so fast that Enzo almost can't catch it before it hits him where it hurts. "Shut the fuck up," he laughs. "She's been tutoring me lately."

"You two have history," Enzo points out. "You've never really talked about it, but I can tell."

"Something like that," Damon hedges. "I had a thing for her when I was, like, twelve."

"No way," Enzo laughs.

Damon smirks. "Pretty sure she had a thing for me, too, if we're being honest."

"You were star-crossed middle school lovers," Enzo teases. "So, what? Your middle school crush is rearing it's ugly head?"

"You could say that." Damon catches the ball Enzo throws his way, locks eyes with Elena across the field, and she smiles at him. "I don't know, man. There's just something about her. There always has been."

"So what's stopping you?" Enzo catches the ball and approaches his friend.

"Stefan doesn't know we're hanging out," Damon reveals. "And we're better these days, but not to the point where he'd be okay with it, so we're trying to keep it on the down low."

"So you're afraid to make a move because of your little bro?" Enzo chuckles.

"It's complicated, you asshole," Damon laughs. "It's not that simple. And like I said, we've got… history. Besides, the odds that she still feels the same way are, like, less than slim to none."

"Please," Enzo scoffs. "You're Damon Salvatore, star quarterback of the number one team in the state, five-star D-I prospect. Just turn on the charm and you've got her."

Damon rolls his eyes. "That's the thing about her. She doesn't fall for that shit." He smirks. "And she's worth more than that, anyway. I've just gotta figure out how to convince her it's worth the risk."

Worth the risk of her friendship with Stefan? _Yeah, right_ , he thinks. _Good luck with that_.

 

… … …

 

When Damon gets home from practice and sees his dad's car in the driveway, he knows something's up. Giuseppe works late on Thursday nights so that he can leave work early on Friday for games; it's been a fact of Damon's life during football season since he was twelve years old. So the fact that he's home right now can't mean anything good. And he's right, because when he walks into the living room, his dad and his mom are both waiting for him. _Shit_.

"What's up?" he asks, setting his gym bag down by the doorway.

"Have a seat, son," Giuseppe says calmly. Damon does as he's told, apprehension building in his stomach. He watches as his mother nervously smooths down the skirt of her dress. His parents look straight out of a 1950s sitcom, he thinks absently.

"I got an interesting call from your coach today," Giuseppe begins, and Damon's blood runs cold, because that never means anything good. "He told me a little story about a talk you two had a few weeks ago."

Damon figures honesty is the best policy and just nods in response. "Rings a bell."

Giuseppe's face hardens. "Care to explain to me why this conversation was even necessary?" he growls. "How could you let it get to this point, Damon?"

"I'm taking care of it, Dad," Damon insists. "I won't put your precious college scholarship in jeopardy."

"Don't you speak to me that way!" Giuseppe roars. "Do you even take any of this seriously? Do you understand how important this year is for you, son?"

"Even if I didn't, you'd drill it into my head every damn day anyway, so what does it matter?" Damon interjects. "I get it, Dad. I told you, I'm handling it."

Before Damon can blink, Giuseppe is in front of him and gripping the arms of his chair. His eyes flash with anger. "You better watch your mouth, son."

"Giuseppe, please," Lily pleads from the sofa.

Her pleas fall on deaf ears. "I brought you into this world," Giuseppe threatens. "And I can take you out just like that. You remember that."

He stares Damon down for another moment before he stomps out of the room, and Lily spares a distraught glance at her son before she follows him. Damon closes his eyes, inhales a shaky breath. There aren't many things that scare him, and his father usually isn't one of them. Usually. But now…

When he opens his eyes, Stefan's standing in the doorway, his eyes wide. "Dude," he breathes out.

Damon lets out a long breath. "Yeah. Do you believe me now?"

Stefan doesn't respond, just moves slowly toward his brother and sits down on the coffee table in front of him. "I…" he clears his throat. "Are you…"

"I'm fine," Damon assures him. "Sorry you had to see that."

"I don't…" Stefan pauses. "What are you gonna do?"

"I'm handling it," Damon repeats. "I'll make it work. As you can see, I don't really have a choice."

If he's honest, he feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Not just because his dad finally knows about his grades - though it's nice not to have to worry about that reaction anymore, he supposes - but because Stefan finally got an opportunity to see the truth. They've been divided against a common enemy for so long; he wonders how things might change if they can band together, support each other through it. They are brothers, after all. Maybe it's time they start acting like it again.

 

… … … 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so, so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far! I hope everyone is enjoying reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm trying to get chapters up on Wednesdays and Sundays, but I've got finals next week and the holidays are coming up so I'll try my best to stick to it. it's 20 chapters total, so we're already almost halfway through...!


	8. dream of our fortunes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "belong" by cary brothers.

 … … …

 

Caroline shows up to school Monday morning with her hair freshly cut and blown out, her nails freshly painted, and her head held high. She knows she looks damn good, and it feels even better to do it just for herself. She doesn't need to impress anyone. She's _Caroline Forbes_ , for crying out loud. Her impeccable resume and immense popularity speaks for itself.

She shouldn't be surprised, though, that her newly single glow attracts the last person she wants to see.

"Klaus," she sighs when she sees him approach from the corner of her eye. "I'm really not in the mood today."

"I just came to express my condolences," he explains, taking her hand in his. She wants to pull it away, but something won't let her. He brings it to his lips, kisses her knuckles. "Such a shame that you and Matt couldn't work things out."

"Yes, I'm sure you're distraught," Caroline says, rolls her eyes, but she continues to let him hold her hand. "Go on, then. Make your big move."

"What kind of man do you take me for?" Klaus feigns indignation, but it dissolves quickly into a smirk. "Don't worry, love. I know you need some time to grieve, but when you're ready, I'll be waiting in the wings."

"Don't you mean when _you're_ ready?" Caroline smirks back at him.

"Isn't that what I said?" Klaus backs away, and Caroline rolls her eyes, turns back to her locker to gather her things for the day. If she's honest with herself, she doesn't mind Klaus' advances. At least he's honest about what he's looking for, instead of trying to sugarcoat it. He wants to sleep with her. End of story. She can appreciate his honesty. That doesn't mean that's what she's looking for right now.

Besides, she thinks with a slight grin as she watches Stefan and Elena walk down the hallway together. She knows what (who) she really wants. If she's gonna move on, she's gonna do it right.

 

… … …

 

She doesn't know what the hell she was thinking, inviting Damon over to her house for a tutoring session. Honestly. _What the hell was she thinking?_

She's not worried about Stefan. He's got a big creative writing project he's working on, and he'll be otherwise occupied for the night. And she's really not worried about Alaric and Jenna; she's already told them what's going on, and she knows they won't betray her trust.

No. She's worried because _Damon Salvatore_ is coming to her house for the first time in five years, and she wants to make a good impression.

It's stupid. She knows it's stupid. But it's like she's eleven again, stealing a little bit of Jenna's mascara and dressing up a little more than usual for a movie night with her two best friends. She went to such lengths back then to try to impress him, and she doesn't know if he even noticed, so why is she doing the same thing now? She thought her crush on Damon had gone away, disappeared into thin air. (She should know better than that.)

"I'll get it!" she yells when the doorbell rings, takes an extra moment in the foyer to comb her fingers through her hair and smooth her clothes down. She pulls open the door with a smile. "Hey."

"Hey back," Damon smirks. He steps inside without an invitation, but she doesn't mind. "Your house hasn't changed at all."

"I keep telling Jenna she needs to redecorate," Elena agrees.

"Ah, yes, where _is_ Hot Aunt Jenna?" Damon teases, making his way into the kitchen. She likes that he seems so at ease here, like five years away haven't changed anything at all. She should be annoyed by that, she supposes, but she finds that it makes her smile instead.

"You never would have had the guts to call me _Hot Aunt Jenna_ when you were twelve," Jenna laughs as he gives her a hug.

"Well, now that I know you're off the market, the pressure's off," he smirks. "Congratulations, by the way. That's quite a ring."

"Cost a pretty penny, too," Alaric teases as he comes in from the back deck. "Damon. Good to see you."

"Mr. Saltzman," Damon shakes his hand. "Is it ever weird running into your students outside of class all the time?"

"Nah," Alaric laughs. "It's just part of my reality. And call me Ric, really." He nods at Elena. "You really let her teach you things when she's barely passing history?"

Elena rolls her eyes. "He doesn't need help with history, _Mr. Saltzman_. We're working on calculus tonight."

"Ah, calculus," Alaric sighs wistfully. "The only subject in school that proves of no use in the real world."

"I've been trying to tell her that for the last three weeks," Damon smirks as he and Elena set up shop on the barstools in the kitchen.

Elena huffs in exasperation. "Just because it's pointless doesn't mean you don't still need to pass it to stay on the football team."

"Touché," Damon concedes. "But it's still fucking pointless."

"Damon!"

"What?" he smirks. "He told me to call him Ric. I can curse in front of Ric."

"You're damn right you can."

They somehow manage to make it through their tutoring session with Alaric interjecting random thoughts from his perch on the kitchen counter. He teams up with Damon to tease her, and she tries (and fails) to keep herself from blushing - she doesn't need Alaric asking questions about what's going on between them. (Which is nothing. So.) She wants to be annoyed that he's hanging around, but he seemed concerned when she asked him to keep this a secret from Stefan, so he's probably just looking out for her. It's sweet, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't appreciate it.

When they finally finish up and Damon lets himself out the front door, she looks up to find Alaric watching her carefully. "What?"

"Don't act all innocent," Alaric smirks. "You have no idea what you're doing there, do you?"

Busted. Elena sighs, drops herself back onto her stool. "Is it that obvious?"

He chuckles. "Just be careful, 'Lena," he warns. "If things keep moving in the direction it looks like they're headed, you're gonna have a lot more to explain to Stefan than a few tutoring sessions."

"Yeah, right." She gathers up her books and stacks them on top of each other. "Like he would ever feel the same way."

Alaric hums thoughtfully. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

He says goodnight and heads up the stairs, but Elena sits there for a while. She wants to know what Ric saw tonight that made him think Damon might feel the same way she does. The problem is that she's not even sure she knows how _she_ feels. There's so much history, so much baggage still left to sort through between them that she doesn't know if she can let herself go there, not really. And then there's Stefan. How can she even let herself think about Damon that way when she's keeping so many secrets from her best friend?

She groans, puts her head down on the counter, lets the cool surface calm her racing thoughts. The longer this goes on, the closer she gets to Damon, the deeper she digs that hole. She wonders, when it's all said and done, if she'll be able to pull herself out before the walls cave in around her.

 

… … …

 

Damon Salvatore is not used to feeling this way. He likes to be in control of every situation at all times; he likes knowing exactly where he stands, exactly what his role is. He likes having the upper hand. He's finding that the longer things go on with Elena, the less control he has. Over himself, over his feelings, over _everything_.

He feels like things between them are getting close to a tipping point. If Stefan finds out about them, Damon knows Elena would turn her back on him in a heartbeat. He hasn't done enough to prove himself to her, to show her that he's worth the risk she's taking. But if Stefan stays in the dark, and things continue to progress the way they are… well. Damon knows where he wants things to go. He has absolutely no fucking clue what Elena wants.

 _Shit_. That's where things start to get a little messy for him. He's getting some serious mixed signals from this girl. She invited him over to her house tonight, let him tease her and flirt with her, and if he's not mistaken, she might have even done a little flirting of her own. But then, she still wants to keep their relationship - whatever it is now - a secret from Stefan; she went to great lengths to ensure that he wouldn't be a threat to their evening. It's not that simple; he knows it's not. It's not that simple for him, either. But he can't read her, can't figure out if she really likes him or not. Maybe she just feels sorry for him, after he opened up to her about his dad. Maybe she's just milking him for information to report back to Stefan. (That's not fair, and he knows it's not true, but he's feeling a little vindictive tonight, so he lets the thought in.)

Things are different between them; they've shifted, changed, and even she wouldn't be able to deny that. He's starting to wonder if it will ever be enough for her. How many times can he say he's sorry before the word loses all meaning completely?

 

… … …

 

After cheerleading practice on Tuesday afternoon, Bonnie corners Elena and insists that they plan a sneak attack to get Caroline to talk. She's been surprisingly quiet since her breakup with Matt last week - quiet enough that Bonnie believes there's something Caroline's not telling them. Elena has a sinking feeling it has to do with Stefan, and she doesn't really want to hear about it, but Bonnie insists that as her friends, they are required to force her to talk, and since Elena has never really had girlfriends before, she's in no position to argue.

That's how she finds herself at the Grill that evening, sipping a chocolate milkshake as Bonnie unsuccessfully begs Caroline to talk.

"You must have _something_ to say about it," Bonnie insists.

"What do you want me to say, Bon?" Caroline laughs, picking a french fry from the plate in the middle of the table. "It's been coming for a while. I let myself be sad for a few days, and now I'm moving on."

Bonnie must notice the same glint in Caroline's eyes that Elena sees, because she narrows her eyes. "I knew it. I _knew_ there's something you're not telling us."

"What?" Caroline hedges coyly, a smirk on her lips. "Now that I'm single, I have prospects coming out of my ears."

"There's only one you want, though," Elena finishes for her.

Caroline frowns. "If you're referring to Stefan, you should know that I have other options, too. Like Klaus."

"The new kid?" Bonnie raises her eyebrows in surprise. "I thought you couldn't stand him."

Caroline shrugs, picks at another french fry. "Stefan doesn't seem like he's all that interested, so it's good to have a back-up plan."

Elena groans. "Please stop talking about my best friend like he's a pair of shoes you can't decide whether or not to buy."

Caroline widens her eyes in contemplation. "You know, that's a great analogy. Should I go with the shoes that are cute, but sensible, and will last me for a long time? Or should I go with the _gorgeous_ pair that might only last me a little while but will make my legs look amazing?"

"You are unbelievable," Elena sputters with a laugh.

Caroline smirks. "Boys. Shoes. What's the difference, really?" She sips her glass of water. "Enough about me. I wanna hear about Elena's secret rendezvous with Damon."

Elena turns a deep shade of pink. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about."

Bonnie widens her eyes. "You've been holding out on us!"

"You owe us some explanations, missy," Caroline insists. "I saw you leaving the school with him last week, _and_ I saw his car in your driveway on Monday. _Spill_."

Elena sighs, but she can't help the smile that creeps onto her face. "Things are… changing," she hedges. "I don't really know what's happening or what it means or what I'm supposed to do about it, but something's changed between us."

"You _totally_ like him," Caroline grins. "I called it from the start. Stefan still doesn't know?"

"No," she concedes. "I've been thinking that maybe now is a good time to tell him. I mean, they're on better terms these days, right? Maybe he won't be so angry about it now that things between them are improving."

Even as she says the words, she knows it's a long shot, and Bonnie only confirms her worries. "Yeah, but now it's a double betrayal," she reasons. "Not only have you been hanging out with Damon, but you've been lying to him about it."

Elena groans, leans her head back against the booth. "He's going to be so mad. So _hurt_. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now."

Caroline shrugs. "You've dug yourself a pretty deep hole," she reasons. "If you don't tell him soon, it'll only get deeper, because I can promise you that what you're feeling for Damon is _not_ one-sided."

Elena blinks at her, knows her face must be red as a tomato. "What do you mean?"

"Please," Bonnie laughs. "You can't tell me you didn't see him staring at you at practice last week. Enzo nailed him in the face with a ball because he wasn't paying attention."

"You would know." Elena smirks, uses the opportunity to get the attention off her. "I bet you were staring right back at Enzo and watched the whole thing happen."

Bonnie blushes, rolls her eyes. "Yes, I know, my crush on Enzo is old news. I'm going to the bathroom."

She squeezes out of the booth, and Elena laughs after her, taking a french fry from the plate. Caroline leans in conspiratorially. "We _have_ to set them up."

Elena scoffs. "And how exactly are we gonna do that?"

"Come on," Caroline groans. "Work with me here. You've got the in with Damon, and Damon is Enzo's best friend. You just have to use your charm to get him to talk to Enzo for us. Piece of cake."

Elena widens her eyes. "You really think Damon would do that if I asked?"

"Please." Caroline smirks. "Damon would fall at your feet if you bat your eyelashes at him. Just make it worth his while."

"Ugh." Elena scrunches her nose in disgust. "You have such a one-track mind."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "You get Damon to convince Enzo, and I'll handle Bonnie. Deal?"

Elena sighs. "Deal." Though she's really not sure she should be using her newfound… _friendship_ with Damon to her advantage this way. But she has to admit, she is curious as to why Enzo is so determined to leave Bonnie hanging, and Damon is the perfect person to give her the insight she needs. She grins to herself, taking another bite of her fry. She wouldn't mind the opportunity to test the influence she has on him. The more she thinks about it, the more she thinks this conversation with Damon could be very informative. She just has to play it the right way.

 

… … …

 

It's been a long time since a practice has knocked Damon on his ass the way Wednesday's practice does. But they've got a big rivalry game coming up this week, against a team that is also a contender for the playoffs. It won't be easy, and he needs to be in the best shape of the season if they're gonna pull off a win. That means putting in extra reps, taking extra hits, giving every minute of every practice a hundred and ten percent of his attention and effort. He loves it, but it's exhausting.

He's the last one out of the locker room after practice and he's thinking about calling Stefan to come back and run some extra drills with him when he sees Elena leaning against the chain link fence that surrounds the field. He wonders if she has any clue how hot she looks, her long hair blowing out behind her in the breeze and her cheerleading practice outfit hugging every curve of her body. Fuck. He shouldn't think of her that way, really, but sometimes he can't help it. With no one else around, he decides there's nothing to stop him from talking to her out in the open like this. (Jesus, that's how he knows this thing has gotten out of hand.)

"You waiting on me?" he calls out teasingly, making his way over to her.

She stands up a bit straighter, smirks back at him. "Actually, yes," she confirms. He raises one eyebrow and smirks to hide his surprise. "I've been commissioned by one Caroline Forbes to obtain top secret information from you."

"Oh yeah?" He laughs. "And what kind of top secret information might I have that Caroline Forbes would need? Isn't she supposed to be the gossip queen?"

"Not about this." Elena tucks her hair behind her ear. "Has Enzo ever said anything to you about Bonnie?"

This time he can't hide the way his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. " _Bonnie_?"

"Don't act so shocked," Elena scoffs.

"I'm not…" he tries, then decides it's better to just leave that one alone. "Enzo's my best friend, but there's a lot that he doesn't share with me. Is there something he _should_ have told me?"

Elena shrugs. "I don't know of anything in particular. They've apparently had this flirtation going for weeks -  _months_ , even - and Bonnie's waiting for Enzo to make a move, but he hasn't yet. She said he's sending her signals that he likes her, but nothing's happening."

Ah. It all makes sense now. "You want me to convince Enzo to ask Bonnie out."

Elena smiles coyly at him, and he wants to groan out loud. "I don't think you really need to _convince_ him of anything. Just plant the seed that Bonnie likes him and that there's potential there, if he wants to pursue it."

Damon feels the unease pool in his stomach. There are things about Enzo's current… situation that might hinder him from contemplating any sort of relationship with anyone. He would never tell Elena that; he would never betray his best friend's trust that way. But he feels like he needs to manage her expectations a little bit, because in his opinion, the odds of this working out are slim to none on a good day.

"I don't know if Enzo's the best choice for Bonnie right now," Damon says carefully.

Elena furrows her brow. "What? Why not? If they like each other, then what's the problem?"

Damon groans internally. He tries to come up with a way to explain it without giving too much away. "Enzo's life is complicated right now, Elena. It's not really the best time for him to be hooking up with someone, in any form."

Elena scowls a little bit. "Is this your way of trying to say that Bonnie's not good enough for him?"

"No," Damon laughs. "Jesus, Elena, I'm trying to be honest, but…" he sighs. "Look. I'll talk to him, okay? I'll plant the seed, but like I said, things are complicated. I'm not making any promises."

The corner of her mouth quirks up in a half grin. "That's all I ask."

As he's driving home, he thinks about how he's going to broach the subject with his friend. Things at home for Enzo have been tense lately, to say the least, and Damon wonders if maybe he'll be looking for an excuse to leave it behind for a few hours. He can frame it that way, convince Enzo to give Bonnie a chance. He's not banking on anything really coming of it, but his best friend could use a little breather, a break from reality every so often. Not to mention the brownie points it will win him with Elena. He smirks. Yes, he thinks he could make this work for all of them.

(It has nothing to do with the sexy way she smiled at him. Nothing at all.)

 

… … …

 

He hasn't told anyone, not even Elena (to be fair, she hasn't asked), but Stefan's been worried about Caroline. They haven't spoken since their blow up in the hallway, and he's hardly even seen her since she and Matt broke up. He knows that had to have been hard on her, and that despite the front she puts up at school, it probably still is. He just wants to make sure she's okay. That's all it is. (Really.)

So when he spots her walking in front of him through the parking lot as he makes his way to the fieldhouse for practice Thursday afternoon, he picks up the pace a little to catch up with her. "Caroline!"

She turns and he watches in fascination as her lips part in surprise before she quickly puts up the mask of a scowl. He wants to laugh, but he doesn't want to piss her off, so. "Can I help you?" she spits out as he falls into step next to her.

She won't look at him, so he's not worried about her seeing his smirk. "Obviously you're still pissed off at me, but I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you're okay, after… everything."

She stops walking, turns to face him, and he does the same. He studies her face, notices how determined she is to be angry with him, but also how the hurt rises to the surface without her consent. "Why do you even care?" she wonders, her lips set in a frown. "You didn't seem to care about my feelings before. Why now?"

Stefan rolls his eyes. "You know that's not true. I was trying to help, Caroline."

"Yeah, well, you did," she reveals. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "But I'm not gonna thank you for it."

He can't help the laugh that bubbles up his throat. "I guess I wouldn't expect you to."

She just stares at him carefully for a moment, searching his eyes, before she lets the mask fall away, ever so slightly. She sighs, looks away from him. "I've been better," she admits. "It hasn't been as easy as I wanted it to be."

He lets the side of his mouth quirk up in a little grin. "You loved him," he reminds her. "No one said it would be easy, but you did the right thing."

"Oh yeah?" The mask is back, but this time it's her signature sexy smirk. "Why, Stefan Salvatore, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're happy I'm single."

He smirks. "I'm happy that you're happy," he concedes, "because I can tell that a weight's been lifted off your shoulders. But I'm not looking to be your rebound, Caroline."

"No?" she murmurs, moving in a little closer so her lips are just a breath away from his. "What _are_ you looking to be, Stefan?"

His heart is pounding in his chest, but he won't give her the satisfaction of seeing how she's affecting him. He just smirks, leans in a fraction of an inch, enjoys the way her breath catches in her throat. It would be so damn easy to just give in, but she's not ready. She might not know that, but he does. When her eyes flutter closed, he moves his mouth to her ear instead. "You'll just have to wait and see."

He moves away from her, turns and heads for the fieldhouse without a backward glance. He can feel her eyes boring into his back, and he smirks. He kind of loves the feeling he gets at leaving her flustered. She's always so in control, so calculating, that he thinks his new favorite past time is throwing her for a loop. He wonders if she knows that she has the same effect on him, every single time.

 

… … …

 

Damon's had almost a full twenty-four hours to figure out how to broach the topic of Bonnie with Enzo, and he _still_ doesn't know what the hell he's gonna say. He hasn't brought up anything of this nature since before everything went down six months ago. He's never had a reason to, but now, he has multiple reasons. (Jesus, if he can't say no to Elena _now_ …) The bottom line is that Enzo needs a break. He's been running himself ragged, trying to help support his family on top of his school work and football, and he could use at least one night of fun.

He knows where the conversation needs to go, he just doesn't know where to start. He figures the best place is probably at the beginning.

"What's going on with you and Bonnie?"

He can tell he's caught his friend by surprise, because Enzo's eyes widen and he fumbles to catch the ball Damon's just thrown at him. He clears his throat, plasters a smirk on his face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't be a dick," Damon laughs. "A little birdie told me you two have a little thing going on."

Enzo rolls his eyes, throws the ball back to his friend. "I didn't know a few conversations equated to a 'thing.'"

"I'm just saying, man," Damon begins. "If she likes you, and you like her, you should ask her out."

"I can't just _ask her out_ ," Enzo scoffs. "You of all people should understand, considering your situation with Elena."

"Touché," Damon smirks. He throws a perfect spiral back to Enzo. "What's stopping you, though, _really_?"

"There's other… complications," Enzo says carefully, aware of the many ears around who might overhear their conversation. "You know that."

"Yes," Damon says, exasperated. "But really, Enzo, you're only young once. _Complications_ can be set aside for one night. They don't have to stop you from living."

"There's no point," Enzo says, resigned. He shrugs. "Someone would end up getting hurt, and I won't knowingly drag someone into that situation. Especially Bonnie. She doesn't deserve that."

"So you _do_ like her," Damon pries.

"Yes, okay?" Enzo snaps, throwing the ball back as hard as he can while Damon laughs. "I like her. She's smart and funny and fucking hot. And you know what happened the last time I got involved with a girl like that?"

Damon sobers, looks at his friend carefully. "Bro. Just because it happened once doesn't mean it'll happen again."

"Yeah, well," Enzo mutters, catching the ball when Damon tosses it his way. "It's just not worth the risk."

"I'm not asking you to fall in love with her or some shit," Damon reminds him. "Just ask her out. One date. It doesn't even have to be a date; just a night out with a friend that you want to get to know better. Jesus, Enzo, you can take _one night_ off, right? Surely your family could pick up the slack. You do more than enough for them as it is."

Enzo bristles. "My _complications_ are not my family's issue," he says stoically. "I can't just dump on them whenever I don't feel like taking responsibility."

"That's not what this is about and you know it," Damon argues, catching the ball and holding it as he approaches his friend. "Hell, _I'll_ help your family if that's what it takes for you to take a night off. One night, man. You're seventeen. Just because your life is a little more _complicated_ than the rest of us doesn't mean you can't have fun."

Enzo mulls it over, falls into step beside Damon as they head for the practice huddle. Finally, he sighs. "Fine, I'll think about it. If I can work out the details then we'll see. Will you shut the fuck up now?"

Damon smirks, zips his lips with his fingers and leaves his friend to take his place near the middle of the huddle. That was actually easier than he thought, if he's being honest. He thought it would take days, maybe even weeks of prying to get Enzo to even consider the idea. He's surprised at his own powers of persuasion.

(If only he could figure out a way to make them work that way on Elena…)

 

… … …


	9. what a time to pick a fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "torch song" by shady bard.

… … …

 

When Damon found out he was forced to get a tutor, he never imagined he'd have this much fun. Then again, maybe it's just _his_ tutor who makes everything more fun.

Okay, so the fun part wasn't _actually_ the tutoring. But once they got that out of the way, it was easy enough to convince her to go out with him again. He likes that it's convenient for them to spend time together, that they can just tack a few hours on to the end of their Monday tutoring sessions to go do something fun. Take today, for instance. He just suggested they head to a vintage movie theatre in the next town over, and she just shrugged and said okay.

That's how they ended up strolling along the deserted main road, talking about anything and everything and nothing, all at the same time. They spent the last hour and a half sitting in the back of the theatre, openly mocking the cheesy movie playing on the screen and throwing popcorn at a couple who couldn't keep their hands off each other. (He thought for a second the guy was gonna come after him, but the sound of Elena's laugh was more than worth the risk.)

"You and Stefan seem to be getting closer lately," Elena comments.

She's looking straight ahead instead of at him, but he can see her coy smile. The breeze blows a strand of her hair in front of her face, and he resists the urge to reach over and tuck it behind her ear, shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket instead. He nods. "I think we're just starting to understand each other a little better."

"I'm glad," she says. "I think he could use someone in his corner, with all this messed up stuff with your dad going on."

"I wouldn't go that far," Damon smirks. "But at least we're united against a common enemy now."

She's quiet for a moment before she takes a deep breath. "I've been thinking I should probably tell him about us."

"Us?" Damon smirks. "What's there to tell?"

Elena rolls her eyes, smiles in spite of herself. "You know what I mean."

"It's always been your call," Damon reminds her. "Whether he knows or not… it doesn't really matter to me."

"It could change things," she worries. "On one hand, the fact that the two of you are working things out means he might not be so angry about it. On the other hand, I've been lying to him about this for so long that he's going to be angry no matter when he finds out. And on top of that, I don't want to ruin all the progress you guys have made in the past month or so."

Damon rolls his eyes. "Stop worrying about everyone else," he insists. "That's what got you into this mess in the first place. Just tell him, Elena. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could lose my best friend," she fires back, annoyed. "That means something to me."

"Yeah, well, you have a hell of a way of showing it," he argues. "Best friends don't keep secrets like this from one another. I don't even understand what the problem is."

" _You're_ the problem," she sighs. "Because even if he forgives me, it won't be the same unless we stop this."

"This?"

" _This_ ," she emphasizes, exasperated. "Whatever the hell _this_ is."

He wants to make her elaborate, just to see her blush like that, but he bites his tongue. "So what you're saying is he'll make you choose, and you'll choose him."

She stops walking, turns to face him. "See, that's where it gets fuzzy," she admits. "Because I don't want to choose."

He swallows, and it's like he can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. "You said it yourself. He's your best friend."

"Yeah, but so were you, at one point," she reminds him. "It would suck to lose that again."

He just looks at her, searches her eyes for the hidden meaning in whatever she's saying. "If Stefan asks you to choose, he's a dick," Damon tells her. "Just because he's got some vendetta against me doesn't mean you have to hate me, too."

Elena mulls that over, turns to keep walking. "I know it's selfish," she says quietly. "But I want both of you in my life. I just don't know how to do that without losing him."

Damon doesn't know what to say, so he just lets the silence hang between them for a moment. He can't deny that he likes the direction this conversation has taken them. It's nice to hear her say that she wants him in her life, because he wants her in his life, too; it's nice to know that they're on the same page, from that perspective. He decides he's done listening to her argue with herself and changes the subject.

"So, Professor Gilbert," he teases. "How would you rate my improvement over the last month?"

"Well, you're not a world-class jerk anymore, so I'd say you've made great strides." She gasps, covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh, you meant academically?"

He bumps her hip with his, can't help but laugh. "Come on, I'm serious. If Coach asks you for a progress report, what are you gonna tell him?"

"You're doing great, Damon," she assures him, smiling up at him. "I'd say Coach would be very pleased with your progress."

"So it's not a waste of your time?" he smirks, remembering that first afternoon in the tutoring center.

She looks down, won't meet his eyes, but she's smiling. "You are anything but a waste of my time," she murmurs.

He just watches her, a smile spreading across his lips. He's hyperaware of how close she is to him, how if he really wanted to, he could just slide his fingers between hers. He might even be able to pull her close enough to kiss her. God, he wants to, maybe more than he's ever wanted anything.

"We should probably head back," she says then, looking up at him, and it's like a bucket of ice water on his head.

Yes, they probably should head back to Mystic Falls, where they have to go back to pretending they hardly know each other. He's been trying to be cool about this whole secret rendezvous thing they've got going, but it bugs him. It would be nice to not have to walk right past her without a word when he sees her in the halls. But he's lucky she's even talking to him at all, so he supposes he should take whatever he can get. And as long as this thing between them stays a secret, he doesn't have to worry about her choosing Stefan over him. Yeah, he thinks he'll just ride this arrangement out for as long as he can. The more time he has with her, the harder he can make her decision, when the time comes. He's gonna do everything he can to make it the hardest damn decision she's ever made in her life.

 

… … …

 

Stefan has this nagging feeling in the back of his head that Elena is keeping something from him. He doesn't know why, or what it could be, but it won't leave him alone. He's hardly seen her at all in the past week and a half, and the more he thinks about it, he realizes she's been somewhat MIA for a few weeks now. But the few times he has seen her, she's been completely normal around him. He wishes he could explain why he feels the way he does, the rationale behind his suspicions, but he hardly understands it himself most days.

"Focus, Stefan," Damon scolds when he lets a perfect pass go right through his hands. "You ran the route wrong, too. What the hell is up with you today? I thought we've been making progress these last few weeks."

Stefan rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, my performance in _football_ is not the most important issue I have right now," he sneers.

"Well then what is it?" Damon insists. "You're obviously not gonna be able to focus if you don't get it off your chest, so spit it out."

Stefan looks up at the sky, rests his hands on his hips to catch his breath. He doesn't really want to talk to Damon about this, but he doesn't really know who else he would talk to. "I'm worried about Elena."

"What about Elena?"

"She's just been a little checked out lately. It's not like her."

Damon tosses the ball between his hands. "Maybe she's just busy," he reasons. "You're not her only friend, you know."

"I know that," Stefan scoffs, rolls his eyes. "But I think she might be hiding something from me."

"You're being paranoid."

"Nah, man. You don't know her like I do."

That's a low blow, Stefan thinks for a moment, considering their history. But it's the truth, so he won't apologize for it.

Damon turns, walks away from him, but Stefan hears his response loud and clear. "I know her better than you think."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? He hears an undercurrent of hidden meaning in Damon's words, but he can't even begin to decide what it might mean. Stefan furrows his brow, opens his mouth to respond, but Damon speaks again. "Run that same route again, and do it right this time."

There's something going on here, he thinks, and sooner or later, he's gonna figure out what it is. But he's going about this all wrong; it's Elena he should be talking to. Maybe if he just asks her straight up, she'll tell him he's being paranoid, that nothing's going on, that everything's fine. Yes, that's what he needs to do. She's harder to pin down than usual these days, but if anyone knows where to find her, it's him.

 

… … …

 

Elena's home alone, sitting at the breakfast bar doing her homework, when there's a knock at the door. She moves to get up to answer it, but Stefan comes through the door before she even moves. She smiles. "Hey."

"Hey, stranger," Stefan says with a grin. He sits down next to her at the counter. "Where is everyone?"

"Alaric and Jenna decided they were going out for dinner and didn't tell me." She rolls her eyes, but she can't help but smile. She envies their relationship, that they're so desperate to spend time together that they take every opportunity they can. "So I'm having leftover mac & cheese. Want some?"

"Hell, yeah," Stefan agrees, grabs a fork from the drawer and digs in. "Hey, are you doing okay?"

Elena furrows her brow in confusion, looks up at him. "Yeah. Why? What makes you think I'm not okay?"

Stefan shrugs, but he won't meet her eyes. She feels unease pooling in the pit of her stomach. "You've just been a little hard to reach lately," he tells her. "I feel like I've hardly seen you at all. I miss hanging out with you."

Elena feels a pang of guilt in her chest. "I miss you, too, Stefan," she says, forcing herself to smile at him. "But I promise, everything's fine. Nothing crazy going on here."

"You're sure?"

"I'm positive." She tilts her head, studies him for a moment. "Is something bothering you? You seem off."

"I just…" He sighs, looks up at her. "I get this weird feeling like you're not telling me something. You're sure there's not anything you're not telling me?"

_Of course there is. I'm just a big fat coward._ "Of course not," she lies. She smiles. "Stop being so paranoid."

She lets the relief flood her system when he laughs. "Yeah, Damon said the same thing," he says, and just like that, she's convinced him.

Later, when he's gone, she stares blankly at the wall, wondering when she became a person who lies to her best friend's face. She has so many reasons in her head why she hasn't told him what's really going on with Damon, but the longer this goes on, the more she realizes none of those excuses are good enough. That deep hole she's dug herself all of the sudden has nothing to support the walls, and sooner or later they're gonna come tumbling down around her. It doesn't really matter, she thinks. She's already suffocating under the weight of her lies.

 

… … …

 

Caroline wishes she could say she didn't spend all weekend thinking about her last encounter with Stefan, but she'd be lying if she did. It's not like anything groundbreaking happened, she thinks, rolling her eyes at herself. She will admit, though, that it was nice of him to show concern for her without any ulterior motives. She's had plenty of guys ask her how she's doing after her breakup with Matt, but it was so painfully obvious what their intentions were that she couldn't take any of them seriously. She could see in Stefan's eyes that he was genuinely worried about her, wanted to know that she was doing okay. And the way he leaned in, so close she could have kissed him if she wanted to, the way his eyes bore into hers… he can go from sweet to sexy as hell at the drop of a hat. She's never seen anything like it.

Since he initiated their last conversation, the ball is in her court this time. On Wednesday morning, she decides she's gonna kick things up a notch.

"Are you ever gonna ask me out?"

She leans against the locker next to his, and he doesn't look at her, but she sees the smirk he's trying to hide. He closes his locker door, turns to face her. "Didn't you just break up with your boyfriend?"

"You didn't answer the question."

"Neither did you."

She rolls her eyes. "So, what? Matt and I were over long before we broke up. I'm over it, and I'm ready to move on."

"Is that so," Stefan deadpans. "Less than two weeks and you're over it? Just like that?"

"Just like that," she confirms with a smirk. "In case that's what's holding you back."

Stefan rolls his eyes, breathes out a laugh. "I told you, Caroline, I'm not gonna be your rebound."

"Why are you so damn difficult?" Caroline scowls, but he just keeps smiling at her, and she wants to smack it right off his face. Jerk.

"Because." He steps forward so he can speak quietly. "I like you, Caroline. A lot."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

She turns around, resists the temptation to stomp her feet in annoyance as she walks away from him. She doesn't understand, at all. He sends all the signals that he likes her. (Not to mention that he just flat out told her.) So why can't he just grow some balls and ask her out? She's single, he's single, they're both willing. She doesn't know what the hell his problem is.

"Hello, Caroline."

She rolls her eyes, continues to gather her books for the day from her locker. "Good morning, Klaus."

Klaus smirks, leans against the locker next to hers. She refuses to give him the satisfaction of looking at him while he speaks. "You look stunning today, love. Can I walk you to class?"

Caroline huffs, shuts her locker. "If you must."

He falls into step beside her as she heads toward first period. "So, considering your ongoing pursuit of Stefan, I'm assuming I've given you ample time to grieve your prior relationship. I wonder if you might reconsider my proposition."

Caroline smirks. "If I'm pursuing Stefan, what makes you think there's any room for you in that equation?"

Klaus hums, smirks back at her. "He doesn't seem all that interested. I, on the other hand, feel that I have made my intentions very clear."

"Yes, indeed you have," Caroline agrees. "I don't think your proposition is something I'm interested in at the moment."

"Hmm." Caroline stops in front of her classroom, and Klaus stops beside her. "You will be soon, though, I have no doubt. I'll be waiting." He backs away, his smirk plastered on his face, and Caroline shakes her head as he turns to walk away.

She catches sight of Stefan down the hall, walking with Rebekah, and feels a surge of jealousy rush through her. They're both laughing, and she's touching his arm, and he doesn't seem to have any problem reciprocating her interest in him. She's starting to wonder if maybe Stefan's not the noble, honest guy she thinks he is. Hell, he just flat out told her how much he likes her, and now he's flirting with some other girl?

Well, Caroline thinks, her gaze shifting back to Klaus as he walks away. Maybe two can play at that game.

 

… … …

 

Damon's a little annoyed with himself, if he's being honest. He can't stop thinking about Elena, and about the things she said on Monday, and about this twisted little secret friendship (or whatever the hell it is) they've got going on. He likes her; that part is obvious. But despite her admission that she wants him in her life, he still can't figure out how she feels about him. Just because they're on okay terms now doesn't mean she's forgiven him for the last few years. Is she still holding that over him? How important can he really be to her if she wants to keep everything between them a secret? And where does he stand in comparison to Stefan?

It's making his head spin, and he needs to talk to someone about it. He can't talk to Stefan, who ironically would be the best source of all things Elena. He can't talk to Enzo because… well, because Enzo just doesn't get it. So he's gotta find someone else who knows Elena, someone who can give him some insight on the last few years and where he might stand with her now.

He knows Ric generally stays after school for an hour or so to finish up paperwork, so since he's got some time before practice on Wednesday, he decides to just go for it.

"Damon," Ric greets in surprise. "How can I help you?"

"You have a minute to talk?" Damon asks.

"Sure," Ric hedges as Damon shuts the door, leans against a desk on the front row. "Everything okay?"

Damon hesitates. "I know that you know that there's something going on between me and Elena."

Ric smirks, crosses his arms, leans back in his chair. "Ah. I see where this is going."

"I'm just not sure where I stand with her, and I was hoping you could give me some insight."

"Insight on what?" Ric laughs. "Elena tells me about as much as she tells anyone else. Whatever she's told you is probably more than I know."

"Not about now," Damon clarifies. "About… the last few years, I guess."

Ric clears his throat, mulls it over. He chooses his words carefully. "I'm gonna be straight with you, Damon. Elena was really hurt for a long time over everything that went down between the three of you. I'm not sure how much of that was fueled by things you did or said to her and how much of it was Stefan's influence, but I do know that if you had asked me a few weeks ago, I would have said you had a lot of making up to do."

Damon nods, looks him in the eye. "Fair enough."

"But things have changed," Ric continues. "She's always had a soft spot for you, Damon, you know that. Whatever you've done or said has given her the idea that you're not that person anymore, or that maybe you never were that person. She trusts you." He leans forward, rests his arms on the desk in front of him. "I can tell you care about her, even if she can't really see it. But I'm warning you right now: if her trust in you is misplaced, or if this is all some big game to you…"

"It's not," Damon tells him hurriedly. "Really. I wouldn't do that to her."

"I'd like to believe you." Ric runs his hand over the scruff on his chin. "But it's obvious that she has decided that she wants you in her life, and that's really all that matters. Just don't screw it up again."

"See, that's where things get confusing, though," Damon counters. "How badly does she really want me in her life if she can't even tell Stefan we're hanging out? Am I really forgiven if she's that afraid of his reaction?"

"Ah, the elephant in the room," Ric smirks. "If you're looking for an explanation on Elena's reasons for keeping things a secret, I can't really help you, because I don't fully understand it myself. If you ask me, it's not Stefan who's preventing her from having both of you in her life. It's her."

Damon lets out a breath. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Ric leans back in his chair again. "I wish I could help you out more, Damon. But the inner workings of the teenage girl mind are not my area of expertise."

Damon snorts out a laugh. "You and me both. Thanks anyway, Ric."

"Anytime," Ric smirks.

He doesn't really feel any better about the situation, but at least he knows he's not the only one who doesn't understand it. He likes Ric a lot, too; he's like a father figure who speaks to him as if he's an equal. He wonders if maybe that's part of why Stefan spends so much time at the Gilbert house. God knows their father has never had a conversation like that with either of them, or any conversation that didn't revolve around football or ' _the great Salvatore name_.' He rolls his eyes. Just one more incentive to get that college scholarship and move as far away from this town as possible, which means he still needs a tutor, which means he still needs Elena. He wishes everything didn't have to be so damn complicated.

 

… … …

 

On Wednesday after cheerleading practice, Caroline practically invites herself and Bonnie over to Elena's house for some much-needed girl talk. Elena rolls her eyes, but Stefan's been around less often and the house has been pretty quiet these days, so it's nice to have voices to fill the silence. The last thing Elena wants to do is talk about all the drama she's got going on her own life, so she can't say she minds that Caroline monopolizes the conversation with her latest romantic predicament.

"What do you guys think I should do?" Caroline asks once she's finished venting.

"Sometimes I wonder why you think you have any issues at all, Caroline," Bonnie sighs. "I can't even get _one_ guy to ask me out."

"Haven't you been listening?" Caroline rolls her eyes. "The problem is that Stefan _won't_ ask me out." She turns to Elena. "There's no chance you'd talk to him for me, would you?"

Elena smirks. "Not a chance in hell."

Caroline scowls, throws a chip at her friend. "Some friend you are."

"Look, if you want to move on, then do it," Bonnie tells her. "If Stefan's not gonna make a move, then screw him. And despite how much you say you loathe Klaus, you're attracted to him and you know it."

Caroline hums. "That accent _is_ pretty sexy."

"So," Elena laughs. "What's the problem then? He likes you, you like him. He's not looking for anything serious, and you just got out of a relationship, so maybe you shouldn't be either."

"Besides," Bonnie continues, smiling conspiratorially. "Maybe it'll even make Stefan jealous."

"Okay, you both make good points. But what if it just pushes him away instead? What if I drive him into Rebekah's arms?"

"Oh, please," Elena rolls her eyes. "Stefan's a big boy who can make his own choices. You need to take him at his word. If he wanted to be with you right now, he would."

"And stop worrying about Rebekah," Bonnie adds. "She's harmless."

"You didn't see the way they were laughing together this morning," Caroline scowls.

"Look, Care," Elena sighs. "It all comes down to what you want. We can't tell you what to do. If you want Stefan, you're gonna have to wait for him. But if you want instant gratification…"

"I'd say Klaus is your man," Bonnie finishes.

By the way Caroline smirks, Elena's pretty sure she's made up her mind, and the chips are not falling in Stefan's favor. She sighs. Maybe she should have fought for him more, but she hasn't talked to him enough recently to know where he stands, anyway. She feels a pang of guilt at that, but then remembers that despite his accusations that he's hardly seen her, it's not like he's been blowing up her phone, either.

She's starting to wonder if even through going to all these lengths to _save_ her friendship with Stefan, she might actually lose it in the process.

 

… … …

 

Things have been pretty quiet the past few weeks between Stefan and and his dad. The last two games have been better; he's actually gotten to play a little bit, caught a few passes, and seemingly placated his father. But after he dropped two crucial passes in the fourth quarter of tonight's game - even though they ended up winning anyway - he thinks his reprieve is probably over.

He drops his bag in the foyer of the house and makes his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, and there he is, leaning on the kitchen counter, his glass of bourbon empty in front of him.

"I'm disappointed in you, Stefan," he begins. "I thought maybe you'd turned a corner, that you were serious about continuing this family's legacy, but it seems that my faith in you was sorely misplaced."

"I didn't intentionally drop those passes, Dad," Stefan argues.

"Do not argue with me!" Giuseppe roars suddenly. He slams his hand down on the counter as he rounds it to stand in front of Stefan. He points his finger in his son's face, stares at him menacingly. "If I don't see some sort of improvement next week, there will be consequences, and I can guarantee you won't like them."

"What can you do to me that you haven't already done?" Stefan wonders aloud.

Giuseppe shoves his son back into the counter, and Stefan's head hits the cabinet behind him with a loud _thump_. He feels lightheaded all of a sudden, then nauseated, like he might throw up. He can't focus on Giuseppe's face in front of him as he speaks, but he hears him loud and clear. "You haven't seen the worst of what I'm capable of, son," he seethes. "I suggest you don't let it get that far."

He leaves Stefan in the kitchen, and Stefan manages to sit down in a chair at the table, rubs the back of his head. The nausea has subsided, and his vision is better, but his head is pounding now. Fuck, as if he didn't take enough hits in the game tonight, he gets even more of them when he comes home.

Damon enters the kitchen, stops in his tracks when he sees Stefan. "You alright?" he asks, moving to get them each a glass of water.

Stefan gulps his down gratefully as Damon sits down next to him. "I'm fine," he says stoically. "I just don't think I'll ever understand why you abandoned your own brother for _him_."

Damon's eyes widen in surprise, and he scoffs. "Okay, I guess we're finally gonna do this, aren't we?"

"It's about time, don't you think?" Stefan insists. He stands, moves away from his brother. He doesn't know if it's the game, or his father, or everything that's happening with Elena, but he's so fucking angry he can't even see straight. "You just walked away from me, Damon. At the first sign that he might actually care about you, you turned your back on me and left me in the dust."

Damon laughs disbelievingly. "Is that what you really think happened, Stefan? Have you really thought that _I_ turned my back on _you_ all this time?"

Stefan's brow furrows in confusion for a moment before his anger overtakes him once again. "Because that's what happened!" he yells. "You caved, and you joined the football team, and you took your rightful place as Dad's favorite son. I could've dealt with that. But you hardly even looked at me afterward."

Damon groans in frustration, and anger, and probably a few other emotions that Stefan's feeling, too. "If I abandoned you, Stefan, it's because _you_ pushed me away first!"

Now Stefan is really confused. " _I_ pushed you away? How the fuck is that even possible?"

"You wanted nothing to do with me," Damon reminds him. " _You_ were the one who decided that by joining the football team, I'd betrayed you somehow, when really it had nothing to do with you at all." He looks Stefan square in the eye. "If you want to blame someone for the way things went down all those years ago, the only person you have to blame is yourself."

"Bullshit," Stefan snaps. "We weren't good enough to be seen with you anymore. Do you even know what you did to Elena? You had to know she liked you back then, and you shoved her aside like she meant nothing to you."

" _Do not_ bring Elena into this," Damon warns. "You don't know the first thing about what happened with Elena. This isn't even about her, anyway. It's about the delusions you _made up_ in your head."

"Delusions," Stefan laughs in disbelief. "God, you really are something. You screw things up for all of us and you somehow manage to blame it all on me."

"Jesus, Stefan, I wanted Dad to _care_ ," Damon reveals. "You can't tell me that if you had that same opportunity, you wouldn't have taken it."

"Not if it meant betraying my brother, I wouldn't!"

"But I _didn't_ ," Damon insists. "I didn't betray you. At least, I didn't mean to. I didn't want anything to change, Stefan. My decision had absolutely nothing to do with you, or Elena, or anybody except me. I'm sick and tired of being blamed for ruining a relationship that _you_ decided was over."

Stefan's head is spinning. He must have a concussion from his father's assault if he's actually believing the things Damon is saying. He doesn't understand how a situation that he thought was always so cut and dry, so black and white, can suddenly have a gray area.

He needs to get the fuck out of here. He hears Damon call after him as he storms out the front door, but he can't be here right now, not when there's so much he needs to process. And he knows exactly where he needs to go.

 

… … …

 

When Stefan storms through her front door at 11:30 on Friday night, she almost screams from her place on the couch, until she realizes it's just him.

"Stefan," she gasps. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I can't…" Stefan takes a deep breath. He sits down on the couch next to her. "I had to get out of there."

"Out of where?" With everything she knows about his father, she can't help but panic. "Stefan, what happened?"

"Just the same shit that always happens," he seethes. "I drop a few passes, I get my head slammed into the cabinet."

Elena feels all the blood leave her face in horror. "Stefan-"

"And as if that isn't enough," Stefan almost laughs. "Damon has the nerve to tell me that all this time, it was _me_ who pushed _him_ away, not the other way around. As if this rift that's been growing between us for _five fucking years_ is all my fault, when he's the one who abandoned me - abandoned _us_. Can you believe that?"

She feels sick to her stomach. "I-"

"Not to mention, I told Caroline I liked her the other day, because I do, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't give a rat's ass about me. So that's just fantastic. But you know what I really needed, throughout all of this?" He looks her square in the eye, and all she sees is anger. "My best friend. I needed you, Elena."

"I'm right here," she reminds him, takes his hand in hers. "Why didn't you tell me all this was going on?"

"You're never around, Elena!" he yells, and she winces. If Jenna and Alaric weren't awake before, they are now. "I tried to be nice about it the other day, but it's like you've completely disappeared. Do you even care anymore?"

"Of course I care, Stefan," she insists. "Of course I care! You're my best friend. If you needed me, you should have come to me."

"I shouldn't have to come _find_ you, Elena," he laughs in disbelief. "You're my best friend. You're supposed to _be there_ , like I've always been there for you. And now, when my life is pretty much falling apart around me, you're nowhere to be found."

She feels the tears welling up in her eyes, wills them to go away. "Stefan. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to-"

"You might not have meant to." He's calmer now, the anger dissipating, and instead it's replaced with sadness. "But it still happened. I just…" he sighs, shakes his head. "I have to go."

"Stefan, wait. Please, just-"

"I have to go," he repeats, and then he's gone.

"Elena?" Jenna approaches her, and Alaric watches from the stairs as Stefan shuts the door behind him. "What happened? What's going on?"

Elena feels the tears spill down her cheeks, lets out a sob. "I really screwed up, Jenna."

"Oh, honey."

She doesn't know how long she sits there, with Jenna holding her close and Alaric rubbing her back, but she can't stop crying - for Stefan, because he's going through so much and she's hardly been there for him at all, and for herself, because she's let things get so out of hand that her friendship with Stefan has suffered because of it. She doesn't know how to come back from this, how to make things right. The hurt in his eyes… it cut her to her core. He was right - he's been there for her through everything, even when she didn't ask him to be. The worst part is that she's known this whole time what he's been going through, and she left him to deal with it on his own while she focused on her own petty drama instead. Her best friend, hurting, and she couldn't be bothered to notice.

What kind of friend does that make her? What kind of _person_ does that make her?

 

… … …


	10. lately I've been craving more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "give me love" by ed sheeran.

… … …

 

It takes Damon twenty minutes and three attempts to finally get up the nerve to knock on her door.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where Stefan went after their blow up last night, and when he came home even angrier than before, Damon guessed that things maybe didn't go so well. He contemplated checking on Stefan first this morning, but honestly, he doesn't really care to speak to his brother right now. Besides, Elena's the one who probably got blindsided by Stefan's misplaced anger and became collateral damage in a fight that had nothing to do with her. If anyone deserves his concern, it's Elena.

When she answers the door, he realizes that his concern is entirely valid. It's almost eleven a.m., and she's not even dressed. Her face is void of makeup and he can tell she was up all night crying. (Still beautiful, in case anyone's wondering.) He feels a pang of sympathy for her, wonders what the hell Stefan said that made her so upset.

"Hi," she croaks. Yep, definitely some crying going on.

"Hi," he smiles. "Nice pajamas."

Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "Sorry. Wasn't expecting any visitors." She attempts a smile, somewhat succeeds. "What are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you."

"Me?" Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Aren't you, like, genetically obligated to be on Stefan's side of all this?"

Damon snorts. "Whatever 'genetic' obligation we have to each other obviously doesn't mean shit." He tilts his head to the side, studies her for a moment. "Can I come in?"

Elena pulls the door open a bit wider, and he follows her into the living room, where she sits down on the couch. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess."

He sits down next to her. "Where is everyone?"

"Alaric and Jenna went to lunch with Jeremy and Anna." She picks at the fabric of the sofa.

He studies her face, frowns at her troubled expression. "What happened last night, Elena?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She frowns. "Stefan stormed in here like a wrecking ball. Something must have happened at home that riled him up like that."

"Yeah, I have a few ideas," Damon mumbles.

"What is going on, Damon?"

He sighs. "Dad got a little…" he chooses his words carefully. " _Upset_ when Stefan got home last night. May or may not have shoved his head into a cabinet."

Elena winces. "I gathered that much."

"And then when I came in to check on him, he kind of pounced on me."

She raises one eyebrow. "Pounced?"

"As in, he decided we were going to hash out five years' worth of brotherly angst all at once."

"Oh." Elena manages a half smile. "And how did that go?"

"About as horribly as expected, if not worse." Damon runs his fingers through his hair, turns his body to face her. "I'm sorry you got dragged into the middle of this. He shouldn't have come here and dumped on you."

"No, he absolutely should have," she argues. "He's my best friend. I'm supposed to be there for him in times like that, and therein lies the problem."

Damon furrows his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" she sighs in frustration. "I mean I've been so caught up in my own drama, between spending time with you and keeping secrets from Stefan, and Caroline's relationship issues, and Bonnie's unrequired crush that I've hardly paid any attention to what Stefan's been going through. Which is a lot, if you haven't noticed."

Damon studies her. "So you have your own problems. You're allowed, you know."

"That's not the point," she says. "The point is that Stefan is the one person who has been there for me through everything. _Everything_. And when he needs me the most, I'm nowhere to be found."

"That's not true," Damon counters. "You're probably a better friend to all of us than anyone deserves."

"Yeah, well, you said it yourself last week," she mumbles. "I have a hell of a way of showing it."

"Stop that," Damon snaps. "I'm an idiot, okay? That's been well established. I say stupid things I don't mean when I'm pissed off." He sighs, tries to moderate his frustration. "Listen to me. Stefan might be your best friend, but he doesn't have to be the center of your universe, okay? You're entitled to get caught up in your own issues every once in a while. Hell, if you ask me, you've been caught up in Stefan's issues for far too long. It's about time you get some drama of your own."

That gets a short laugh out of her, and he wants to grin triumphantly, but he resists. "I can't just abandon him when he needs me, Damon."

"You're not _abandoning_ him," Damon groans. "Jesus Christ. What is it with that idiot thinking everyone's abandoning him all the time?" He takes her hand in his, and it forces her to look him in the eyes. "Look, Stefan was angry with me last night, not you. He was probably angry with Dad, too. But I promise you, he'll come around. He can't stay away from you for very long." He smiles at her. "Must be a in the Salvatore genes somewhere."

She's just looking at him, her lips parted in surprise, or awe, or gratitude. He can't really tell, but she's so fucking beautiful he doesn't know what to do with himself. Part of him thinks if he kissed her right now, she'd probably let him. But she's confused, and upset, and he doesn't need to add to any of that by changing the rules of the game. (Doesn't mean he doesn't want to, with every fiber of his being.)

He clears his throat. "Right. Have you eaten?"

Elena just stares at him for a moment, seems to snap out of a trance. She shakes her head. "No."

"Good," he smirks. "Because I make a mean bacon and cheese omelet, Miss Gilbert. You're in for a treat."

 

… … …

 

Elena feels a hundred times better - probably better than she deserves - by the time she meets Caroline and Bonnie at the Grill on Saturday afternoon for a debrief. Damon's visit was just what she needed to get her off her ass, and the breakfast he made her certainly helped to lift her spirits. She still feels a twinge of pain in her chest when she thinks about Stefan, but at least she's stopped wallowing in it. Now, what she needs is a little advice from her girlfriends on how to move forward from all this.

"So the Salvatore brothers had a little spat last night, did they?" Caroline begins, sipping her vanilla milkshake.

Elena sighs. "More like a shouting match." She closes her eyes, rubs her temples. "I don't even know where to start."

"Well, what did Stefan say when he barged into your house?" Bonnie wonders.

"Basically that I'm the worst friend ever." She removes the wrapper from her milkshake straw, twirls it around her fingers. "He's right, though. I am."

"You are not," Caroline frowns. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, we can start with the fact that I've been lying to him and sneaking around with his brother for the last month and a half," Elena snaps.

"Oh, please." Bonnie rolls her eyes. "I mean, it certainly won't win you any good friend points, but I hardly think that makes you the _worst friend ever_. So you handled the situation the wrong way. There's still time to fix it."

"Just tell him what's going on," Caroline agrees. "He's already blown up at you. The worst that can happen is he stays mad for a little while longer."

"I can't." Elena shakes her head. "No way. He'll never forgive me."

"I think you grossly overestimate the magnitude of the situation," Bonnie argues. "So you snuck around with Damon and lied. So what? No one's getting hurt. If that's grounds for Stefan ending your friendship, you probably shouldn't be friends in the first place."

"You don't understand," Elena insists. "There's so much history there… so much that they haven't worked out yet. Especially after they just blew up at each other. Stefan would be furious. I can't betray him that way."

" _You already did_ ," Caroline reminds her. "And yeah, maybe we don't know the whole story, but if you ask me, it doesn't really matter. It's not your responsibility to tip toe around whatever their baggage is. If you've moved past it, you should be allowed to hang out with Damon if you want. Stefan doesn't control you."

"I know that," Elena sighs, exasperated. "I just… we need to get past this first before I can tell him anything else."

She watches as Bonnie and Caroline exchange a look of annoyance. "Fine. Since he obviously doesn't know about this whole mess, what were _his_ reasons for calling you the worst friend ever?"

"I haven't been there for him," Elena recites. "He's been struggling a lot with his dad, and with…" she looks at Caroline, who widens her eyes subtly, and decides to go a different route. "…this whole football thing, and then his blow up with Damon last night. I've been kind of busy lately, and I haven't been there for him like he needed me to be."

"So you're supposed to put your life on hold because _Stefan_ 's life is complicated?" Bonnie scoffs. "You've got your own things to worry about, Elena."

"Yeah, but Stefan's my best friend," she says. Why doesn't anyone else understand this concept? "He's been there for me through _everything_ , no questions asked. He needs me, and I've been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I didn't even notice."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Look, Stefan's great, but there's no reason why you should be at his beck and call twenty-four seven," she argues. "Just because you're his best friend doesn't mean you're not allowed to have your own issues, Elena."

"Everyone keeps saying that," Elena says.

"Well!" Bonnie throws her hands up in exasperation. "If everyone's saying it, then when are you finally gonna believe it?"

The conversation soon moves to other matters - like how Enzo _finally_ asked Bonnie out on a date, and they're going out tonight - but those words still echo in Elena's head. She's heard it multiple times from multiple sources today, and she starts to wonder if maybe they're right. Just because Stefan has things going on doesn't mean she's supposed to put her entire life on hold to be there for him. Wasn't she just thinking a few days ago that he hadn't really sought her out lately? And yeah, maybe she's been a little bit unavailable, but she's been _busy_. Maybe Stefan's so used to being her only friend that he's not sure what to do with himself now that she's branching out.

Either way, one of them is going to have to apologize at some point. It's just a matter of who's gonna crack first.

 

… … …

 

Caroline thinks (no, she _knows_ ) that she's a little bit of a hypocrite. She keeps telling Elena to stop worrying about what Stefan thinks and focus on what's best for herself, when Caroline herself can't take her own advice. She likes Stefan. More than she really wants to admit, actually. But she doesn't want to wait around for him, and she's annoyed that he won't just make a move already.

As she's leaving the Grill, she spots Stefan in a corner booth. She's just decided she's going to go say hello when she looks a little closer and realizes he's sitting there with Rebekah. Just like the other day in the hallway, they're talking and laughing and having a grand old time. Two things flash through her mind: one, how can Stefan be so happy and carefree when Elena just spent the whole day agonizing over their friendship? And two, what the hell is she doing waiting around for a guy who says he likes her, but seemingly can't seem to stay away from another girl?

So that's it, she decides. If he doesn't like her enough to want to be with her, she won't waste her time waiting around for him. Not when she has other options that are readily available to her.

She pulls out her phone and sends off a quick text, smirking to herself. Caroline Forbes doesn't let anyone else control her. She's taking control of her own life, and she feels better already.

 

… … …

 

When Bonnie drops Elena off at her house later that afternoon, she's surprised to find Stefan waiting for her on her front porch. She panics for a moment. She hasn't fully decided what she wants to say to him, how she wants this conversation to go. She knows she has some apologizing to do, but she won't let him blame this whole thing on her. The fact that he's the one here to see her tells her she probably doesn't have anything to worry about.

"You okay?" Bonnie asks, eyeing Stefan from the corner of her eye.

Elena takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Gotta work things out sooner or later, right?" She smiles at her friend.

Bonnie smiles back. "Call me later."

Elena nods and gets out of the car, turning to face her best friend. He looks up, meets her eyes, and she can already see the apology written across his forehead. She can't help the small smile that she gives him. "Hey."

"Hey," he says. She sits down on the porch steps next to him. "You okay?"

"I'd be better if my best friend wasn't so upset with me," she tells him, her brow furrowed. "What the hell happened last night, Stefan?"

He sighs. "I don't even know," he confesses. "I really don't. My Dad had his typical hissy fit after the game last night, and the anger just escalated from there. Damon set me off, and then we ended up talking about you somehow, and I just…" he sighs again, turns to face her. "You're not the worst friend ever, okay? I didn't mean any of that."

"I know you didn't."

"But I've missed you lately," he says honestly. "I know you're busy, and I know that your life doesn't revolve around me. You've got other friends now, and don't get me wrong, I think that's awesome. I just feel like maybe you've forgotten about me a little bit."

Elena softens her gaze, parts her lips in surprise. "Stefan."

"I know," he says sheepishly, his cheeks pink. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," she says. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. Hey," she says, so he brings his gaze up to meet hers. "You're my best friend, Stefan. Yes, I'm hanging out with Bonnie and Caroline, and I've got cheerleading and tutoring and other obligations. But you are still my best friend, and if you need me, I am always here for you." She smiles a little. "I just might not be right there next to you, like I always have been."

Stefan nods. "I know. I'm sorry," he says.

"I know. Me too." He pulls her in for a hug, and she closes her eyes, smiles to herself. This is the Stefan she knows and loves.

She pulls back to smile at him. "Celebratory Scrabble tournament?"

He laughs. "You're on."

 

… … …

 

When Stefan gets home from Elena's house that evening, he feels a million times better than he did this morning. He completely overreacted and dragged Elena into an argument that had nothing to do with her. It was a good thing though, he thinks, because it allowed him to air some grievances he'd been struggling with. He wishes he'd handled it differently, but at least everything's out in the open now.

He figures since he's already on the apology train, he might as well keep it going. He knocks on Damon's door.

"Yeah?"

He pushes open Damon's door, finds him sitting at his desk working on calculus, of all things. Stefan smirks. "Homework, Damon? On a Saturday? Really?"

Damon rolls his eyes. "What can I say? My tutor has been a good influence on me."

Stefan nods, looks around for a moment. "Wanna go up to the school and practice for a little while?"

Damon's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Uh, yeah. Okay. Just let me change and then we can go."

Stefan doesn't really know what he wants to say to his brother. He doesn't really think he needs to apologize - he still hasn't quite processed the things Damon said, the difference in opinion they have over the way things happened years ago. It'll take a few more frank conversations like that before they truly understand each other, but he thinks they've made some good strides in the right direction.

As they're warming up, Damon breaks the silence between them. "So, guess you're not mad at me anymore."

Stefan rolls his eyes, throws the ball back to his brother. "I wasn't really mad at you," he admits. "I was mad at Dad, and I took it out on you."

Damon hums his dissent. "I'm pretty sure you were mad at me, too."

"Okay, so maybe that was five years' worth of anger and confusion coming at you all at once." He stares at his brother. "I won't apologize, though. I meant what I said."

Damon nods. "I won't apologize, either, because _I_ meant what _I_ said."

Stefan mulls that over, catches the ball Damon throws his way. He nods. "Fair enough."

"Did you apologize to Elena?"

Stefan furrows his brow, throws the ball back. "How did you know about that?"

Damon shrugs. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where you disappeared to, and since you came back even angrier than before… I just read between the lines."

Stefan eyes him suspiciously for a moment before he remembers all those comments about his paranoia. He decides not to read too much into it. "Yeah, I apologized. It wasn't fair of me to take it out on her. But it was good because I finally got to confront her about some things that have been bothering me lately."

Damon furrows his brow, throws the ball back to Stefan. "You mean that stuff you were talking about the other day?"

Stefan nods. "She apologized for being so absent, but I don't really see it changing anytime soon. And I still have this weird nagging feeling that there's something she's not telling me."

"You should go easy on her." Damon catches the ball Stefan throws his way. "Maybe it's just something she can't tell you yet."

"Yeah, maybe." For some reason, Stefan doesn't like the direction this conversation is headed, so he decides to change the subject. "So, you've got a tutor?"

Damon's face goes blank for a second before he relaxes again. "Yeah," he responds. "Can't have another run-in with Dad about my grades, now can I?"

"Wouldn't want that." Stefan smirks. "You still trying to get a scholarship?"

"Hell yeah." Damon backs up a little, throws a perfect spiral to his brother. "Gotta get as far away from our twisted family as possible."

Yeah, Stefan thinks in agreement. He can't say he blames him.

 

… … …

 

Caroline doesn't know why she's so nervous. This was her idea, after all. This is what _she_ wants. So why does she feel like she shouldn't be here right now?

She's been standing in front of his front door for the last five minutes, trying to gather up all her courage. She runs her fingers through her hair one more time, smooths her hands down the front of her dress, rolls her eyes at herself. It doesn't really matter what she looks like at this point. _Just do it already_. Before she loses her nerve, she knocks on the door.

He opens it looking more beautiful than he has any right to be. Now that she's given in, she's really allowing herself to see how incredibly gorgeous he is, how his green eyes sparkle with arrogance and mischief and how _sexy_ it is. He leans against the door frame, smirks at her. "Now this is a sight I've waited ages for."

"Weeks does not equate to ages, Klaus," she says haughtily, pushes her way past him into the house. "Now. The rules."

"Rules?" Klaus' eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "I think the parameters of the act are pretty straightforward, love."

Caroline holds her hand up, takes a deep breath. "We're not dating. You are not my boyfriend. This is strictly a physical relationship."

Klaus smirks again. "I can work with that."

"You will not flirt with me in the hallways like you have some sort of claim over me. You are not allowed to be jealous when I talk to other guys." Klaus purses his lips in dismay, but doesn't say anything. "No cuddling, no spending the night."

Klaus rolls his eyes. "Have you quite finished?"

Caroline mulls it over. She had a few more things in mind, but none that can't wait for later. "As long as you understand the terms of our agreement."

He smirks at her. "Clear as a bell."

"Good."

And then she's kissing him, and he's burying his hands in her hair, and she's tugging at his shirt and they're stumbling up the stairs and into his bedroom, and she can't help but smirk to herself. She forgot how nice it is to feel sexy, to feel _wanted_. It's just what she needs to cure her of pointless unrequited crushes. _Take that, Stefan Salvatore_.

 

… … …

 

It's late when Jenna and Alaric finally get home from their day with Jeremy. Elena's mindlessly flipping through the television channels when they come through the front door. "Hey," Jenna greets.

"Hey," Elena responds. "How's Jeremy?"

"He misses you," Jenna says pointedly, and Elena shrinks down in her seat a little bit. She knew he wouldn't be happy that she'd skipped out on lunch with him. To be honest, she's regretting it a little bit - she would have liked the opportunity to see her big brother and her little nephew. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though. I'm gonna go take a shower."

Jenna heads up the stairs, and Alaric takes a seat beside her. "You seem to be in a better mood."

Elena nods, turns the television off. "Stefan and I worked things out."

"Good, I'm glad." Alaric watches her carefully. "When you say worked things out…"

"He still doesn't know, Ric," she snaps.

"Hey," Alaric scolds, furrowing his brow at her.

Elena sighs, leans back against the couch. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I'm just so sick of thinking about this whole situation."

"Well, there's an easy fix for that," Alaric reminds her.

Elena rolls her eyes. "Yeah, says you and everyone else. You don't understand what's at stake here."

Abruptly, Elena's phone vibrates on the coffee table, startling both of them. Damon's name lights up her phone screen. She wonders why he's calling, then reaches over to silence the vibrations, but not before Alaric catches sight of her screen. "Elena."

"I know," she groans. "I know."

"I'm not trying to upset you, honey," he assures her. She looks up at him. "I just don't understand what you're doing, or why you're doing it."

"You know," she sighs. "The longer this goes on, the more I don't even know what I'm doing."

"Well, then maybe you should think about that." She feels his eyes on her, but she can't meet them. He leans over, kisses the top of her head. "I'm headed to bed. Just think about it, okay?"

She nods, looks over her shoulder as he heads up the stairs. She sighs out loud, rubs her temples in exhaustion. She doesn't want to think about this anymore. She and Stefan are in a good place now, and she's not willing to screw that up right now. She doesn't know when the right time to tell him will be - to be honest, there might not ever be a good time. She's starting to realize that, and instead of pushing her to tell him, it just makes her want to avoid that moment for as long as she possibly can.

She picks up her phone, sees the missed call from Damon and notices a follow-up text. _You up?_

She can't help the smile that spreads across her face. She hits the callback button and lifts the phone to her ear.

" _Hey._ "

"Hi," she says quietly. "You rang?"

He chuckles. " _Just checking in on you. Stefan said you two worked things out._ "

"Yeah, I think we're good," she tells him. "I'm guessing that means you and Stefan are speaking again."

" _We had a practice session this evening_ ," he confirms. " _We basically just agreed to disagree_."

"Well that's progress, I guess," she comments, picking at the fabric of the sofa absentmindedly. "At least he's heard your side of it now."

" _Yeah, at least_ ," Damon agrees. " _So you're feeling better?_ "

"Much," she assures him. "That omelet this morning really did the trick."

" _Oh, yeah?_ " She can practically hear him smirking through the phone. " _Glad I could be of service._ "

"Seriously, thank you for checking on me this morning," she continues. "You really didn't have to."

" _I told you, I was worried about you_ ," he says softly. " _I know things have been weird lately_."

"Not weird," she disagrees. "Just… different."

" _Good different?_ "

"Very good different," she smiles.

At some point she heads up to bed, and they talk and talk and talk until eventually it's past midnight and they finally hang up. She feels giddy. The more time she spends with him, the more comfortable they become with one another, and the more she thinks that maybe what she's feeling for him isn't entirely unrequited. She doesn't really know, and she might not ever know, but she's trying not to overthink it. _Ha_ , she thinks to herself. _Fat chance_.

 

… … …

 

When Elena wakes up on Sunday morning, she has three missed calls from Bonnie and a barrage of texts from both Bonnie and Caroline. From the general idea of the texts, she gets the feeling that things with Enzo didn't go so well the night before. So that's how she finds herself at the breakfast table with Caroline and Bonnie as Alaric makes his famous breakfast spread.

"Is it ever weird to you that your history teacher is the one who makes your breakfast in the morning?" Caroline says with a smirk, loud enough that Alaric can hear them.

"It's more weird that the one who makes me breakfast in the morning is also my history teacher," Elena clarifies, and Bonnie laughs.

"I can hear you," Alaric reminds them from behind the stove.

"I know," Elena smirks.

"So tell us again what happened with Enzo," Caroline prompts. "And don't leave _anything_ out."

Bonnie scoffs. "Trust me, there aren't any juicy details to share." She picks a strawberry out of the fruit salad in front of her. "We were halfway through dinner at the Grill when he got a phone call and had to leave because of a ' _family emergency_.'" She sighs. "The worst part is that I thought we were actually enjoying ourselves. Obviously not, if he bailed so quickly."

"How do you know he didn't _actually_ have a family emergency?" Elena asks, looking at her friend quizzically.

"It was the way he said it," Bonnie insists. "Like there was something he didn't want me to know."

"Maybe it's just too personal for a first date," Caroline reasons.

"Or maybe you're right and he really doesn't like you at all," Elena teases.

"You both suck." Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Look, he lives right down the street, right? I'm just gonna go over there and find out what the hell happened. If he doesn't like me, he can tell me to my face." She storms out of the house on a mission, and Caroline and Elena exchange a look of disbelief.

"No one can say that girl doesn't have a backbone," Alaric comments. "She could be walking into a lion's den and not even know it."

"She can take care of herself," Caroline says flippantly. "How are the pancakes coming, Mr. Saltzman?"

"Please, it's Ric outside of school," Alaric insists. "Mr. Saltzman just makes me feel like a creepy teacher hanging out with students outside of class."

"Isn't that what you are?" Elena teases.

Alaric points his spatula at her menacingly. "You better watch it."

Elena gasps dramatically, and Alaric scowls at her. She turns back to Caroline with a smirk. "You think she'll get anything out of him?"

Caroline shrugs. "Enzo's pretty private. No one really knows that much about him. Maybe he likes her enough that he'll tell her what's really going on."

They get their answer when they're in the middle of eating. Bonnie comes barreling through the door, her face ashen and vacant. Caroline and Elena watch her carefully as she slowly approaches the table, takes her seat, stares blankly ahead. It's like she's not seeing anything. Elena leans over from her place next to her, waves her hand in front of Bonnie's face. She snaps out of whatever trance she's in, turns to face her friend. Elena looks at her expectantly. "Well?"

Bonnie swallows. "I…" she stops, takes a deep breath, looks at her friends. "He has a daughter."

 

… … …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halfway through!! stick with me, things are about to heat up!


	11. look into my eyes and say you want me too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "hunger" by ross copperman.

... ... ... 

 

Caroline's a little preoccupied when she makes it to school Monday morning. She has a big history quiz today (that, rudely, Mr. Saltzman _refused_ to excuse her from, even despite yesterday's revelations) and a new cheer routine to choreograph, not to mention her new… _arrangement_ with Klaus and Bonnie's drama from yesterday. God, she still can't believe Enzo has a _kid_. She wonders how he managed to keep it a secret for so long. Although, from what Bonnie told them, she's only about six months old, but still. A _baby_. How did _that_ one never make it through the gossip mill?

"Miss Forbes," Klaus purrs in her ear.

She knew he wouldn't be able to resist approaching her at her locker, even despite her warnings. She rolls her eyes. "Can I help you?"

Klaus leans against the locker next to her. "I just thought someone should tell you how absolutely ravishing you look today," he comments, smirking wolfishly.

She shuts her locker, turns to face him. "And you thought that someone should be you."

He snakes his arm around her waist, pulls her toward him. "Well, I-"

"Stop that," she hisses, smacking his arm and wrenching herself out of his arms. "This was _not_ in our agreement."

Klaus scowls at her. "Don't you think you're being a tad unreasonable, love?"

"No, _love_ , I don't," she scoffs. "I thought I made myself _clear as a bell_. This," she gestures between them with a finger, "doesn't carry over outside of the bedroom. Okay?"

Klaus has the decency to look wounded for a split second before his smirk is back in place. "You sure know how to make a man feel used."

"Yes, well, I'm sure it's timely payback for previous transgressions," she smirks. "Excuse me."

She pushes past him and makes her way down the hall. She knows he'll be watching, and she makes sure to sway her hips just a little bit more than necessary. There, she chuckles to herself, biting her lip. That should give him something to think about for later.

 

… … …

 

Damon's waiting on the field in their normal warm-up spot when Enzo shows up late to practice on Monday afternoon. He looks like complete shit, if Damon's being honest. He knows he had his date with Bonnie this weekend. He hopes that's not the reason for his sour mood.

"What happened to you?" Damon asks as Enzo approaches him. "You look like shit."

Enzo ignores his comment. "Had to go home and check on… things… after school for a minute." He sets his bag down, backs up. "Just throw the damn ball."

Damon furrows his brow, but he does as he's asked. "Seriously, man, what happened? Is everything okay?"

"It's fine now," Enzo says shortly. He holds the ball in his hands, sighs, crumbles just a little bit. "She got sick while I was out with Bonnie on Saturday night."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah," Enzo agrees. "Uh oh. So long story short, Bonnie knows everything now."

Damon's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He catches the ball Enzo throws his way. "Like… _everything_?"

"I didn't have a choice," Enzo shrugs. "She showed up to the house on Sunday morning wanting an explanation, and my dad came to the door with Cassie like an idiot, and naturally I had some explaining to do."

"Wow." Damon throws the ball back to his friend. "And how are you dealing with that?"

"I don't know." Enzo frowns. "I know she won't say anything to anyone, but… it's weird. Having someone else know things about me that not many people know."

"Did she seem okay with it?"

Enzo scoffs, lets out a laugh. "She took it about as well as I could have expected. But she did call me later to promise that she wouldn't rat me out, and she said she's willing to try again if I am."

"See?" Damon smirks. "No harm, no foul."

Enzo rolls his eyes, throws the ball back to Damon. "I would rather have told her on my own terms, but I guess it's not so bad this way. At least everything's out in the open."

"So do you think you're gonna try again?" Damon leans down to tie his cleat, and Enzo walks toward him.

"Hell yeah," Enzo smirks. "I like her a lot."

And later, when Damon's spying on cheerleading practice (Elena) and catches sight of Bonnie watching Enzo, he thinks that the feeling is definitely mutual.

 

… … …

 

Elena fidgets nervously as she waits for Damon to make his way to the tutor center. Football practice ended half an hour ago, so she knows it won't be long now. She has so many questions. Does he know about Enzo's baby? And if he does, why the _hell_ would he let her set Bonnie up with him without telling her?

"Hey," Damon says when he finally walks in, shuts the door behind him. "Sorry, I was just-"

Elena holds a hand up to stop him. "Did you know?"

Damon's face goes blank for a moment, then relaxes when he realizes what she's talking about. He sits down beside her, smirks. "Of course I knew."

Elena's mouth drops open, and she whacks his shoulder, ignoring his cry of surprise. "What the hell, Damon!"

"What?" he laughs. He has the audacity to look _innocent_. Jerk. "I _tried_ to tell you."

"No you didn't!"

"It wasn't my secret to tell," he says. "Enzo doesn't want anybody to know."

Elena softens just a little bit. "I can't even imagine how hard it must be for him."

Damon shrugs. "He manages. His family is pretty awesome about it, actually. He still has to work part time to help offset the costs, but they help him out a lot more than he asks them to."

"That's good," Elena murmurs. "Do you know…" she clears her throat, tries to decide how to phrase her question. "Is she…"

Damon shakes his head with a smirk. "He hooked up with a girl at a Whitmore party last summer, and nine months later, she left the baby on his doorstep with a note."

Elena gasps. "That's… _awful_."

"It's not ideal," Damon clarifies, "but it's not awful. He'd do anything for her."

"And he hasn't even tried to find the mother?"

"The way Enzo sees it, if she didn't want to be around, then Cassie doesn't need her in her life anyway," Damon explains. "He's not one to dwell on what could have been."

"She's so lucky she has him," Elena comments.

"She's a pretty fucking cute kid, too," Damon smirks. "She's gonna break some hearts of her own when she grows up."

Elena rests her chin in her hand, smiles at him dreamily. "I bet you're so good with her."

"Yeah, the few times Enzo's actually allowed me to come over, she seemed to like me," he grins.

She watches him for a moment, can't seem to wipe the smile off her face. "I think it's really sweet that you're so protective of him and his secret."

Damon shrugs. "He's my best friend," he reminds her. "You'd do the same for Stefan, wouldn't you?"

Elena nods her agreement. "Of course I would. I guess I'm just…"

"What?" he smirks. "Surprised?"

Elena shakes her head. "Impressed, I guess. That's a pretty big secret to keep to yourself, especially considering you're probably the only person in the whole school who knew."

"The one and only." Damon smiles. "He's kept plenty of secrets for me over the last few years. He's one of the only people who's ever seen an altercation between me and my dad first hand."

Her grin melts into a frown. "Have there been many of them?"

He shakes his head. "Not enough to make it an issue."

Elena scowls. "I'd say it's an issue regardless of how frequently they happen."

"Yeah, well." Damon shrugs. "I'll be out of here in a few months, so I can deal with it."

Elena bites her lip. Yes, he's right, he _will_ be out of here in a few months. Yet another topic of discussion she doesn't want to think about. She takes a deep breath, smiles. She sets her hands down on the table emphatically. "Okay, Mr. Salvatore, let's see that calculus quiz you _aced_ last week."

 

… … …

 

It's Thursday evening before Stefan's able to finally get Elena to hang out with him again. She really has gotten busier lately; she's probably overrun with tutoring business, because she's definitely the best tutor they have. He selfishly doesn't like it, but he knows she loves it. She's always loved tutoring for a myriad of reasons he won't ever understand.

"Have you talked to Caroline lately?" Elena asks as she takes a bite of her ice cream. He brought over a tub of her favorite - mint chocolate chip - as a secondary peace offering from their fight the weekend before.

"No," Stefan frowns, looking up at her. What does she know that she's not telling him? "Spill."

She hesitates, looks him in the eye. "First you have to tell me how you really feel about her."

"No way. You're baiting me."

"You bet your ass I am," she laughs. "You've hardly said two words about her in the last few weeks, but I know things have happened between the two of you. So _you_ spill. What's really going on?"

He puts his spoon down in his bowl, considers his words carefully. "Caroline is… intriguing."

"Intriguing." Elena mulls it over. "That's one word for her. What do you find so intriguing about her?"

"She's…" he pauses. "She's not who she wants everyone to think she is. She cares, a lot more than she wants people to know she does. She cares about what people think of her, about how people perceive her."

"Yeah, so does everyone else," Elena laughs. "Come on, Stefan. Do you like her or not?"

"Of course I like her," he blurts. "She's cute and funny and sexy and smart. Other than her temper and her stubborn streak, what's not to like?"

"Something tells me you even like those parts of her," Elena murmurs. "Okay. In the interest of full best friend disclosure, I have to tell you something now." He watches as she takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Caroline's sleeping with Klaus."

Stefan reels back like he's been slapped. "What?"

Elena nods sympathetically. "She had some sort of epiphany last weekend, and they have some sort of arrangement worked out."

"Huh." He wishes he could be more articulate, but honestly, he doesn't know what to say. He put himself out there, told her how he really felt, and she ran in the opposite direction. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised, really. He doesn't know what he ever thought a girl like her would want with a guy like him.

"Guess you're off the hook," Elena says carefully, watching him closely.

"Guess so," he mutters.

He feels like he's been punched in the stomach. He thought they'd made some progress in the past few weeks, thought they were moving in the right direction, thought they were on the same page. He should have figured she'd be on a completely different page in a completely different book. In what world do Stefan Salvatore and Caroline Forbes fit together?

Not this one, that's for sure.

(When Rebekah texts him later that night and asks if he's free Saturday night, he decides if Caroline's gonna move on, he's entitled to do the same.)

 

… … …

 

Damon figures if Stefan's gonna start dating Rebekah, it potentially benefits him in two ways. One, maybe he'll get laid and stop being so uptight about everything all the damn time. And two, it frees up Elena's Saturday nights to invite him over. Okay, so technically, this is supposed to be a tutoring session, but who the hell wants to do _schoolwork_ with a hot girl on a Saturday night? Not Damon Salvatore, that's for sure.

No, he'd much rather kick her ass at MarioKart.

"You're such a cheater!" she cries, shoving him away from her with her elbow.

"Throwing a banana peel is _not_ cheating," Damon laughs, elbowing her back. "It's a perfectly legal strategy."

"Well it's not fair," Elena pouts when he crosses the finish line first once again. "You're better than me at this game anyway. I should be the only one allowed to use banana peels."

"Don't pout," he smirks, throwing the controller onto the coffee table. "It makes you look like a sore loser."

"I'm not a sore loser," she insists, standing up and heading for the kitchen. " _You_ don't play fair."

He follows her into the kitchen, reaches into the pizza box for another slice of pepperoni, and she swats his hand away, glaring at him. "Feisty," he chuckles.

"You already ate half the pizza by yourself," she whines. "At least let me have a slice or two before you demolish the rest."

"What can I say?" he smirks again, lets her take her fill before he grabs another slice for himself. "Throwing for over four hundred yards in a game works up a bit of an appetite."

Elena rolls her eyes. "Yeah, except that was almost 24 hours ago, you egomaniac."

Damon shrugs. "Delayed side effects." He takes another bite of his slice. "Good thing Rebekah's keeping Stefan occupied so I can have my fill of pizza and ice cream."

She scowls. "Yeah, thank God for Rebekah," she mutters sarcastically.

Damon furrows his brow, studies her expression. "You don't like Rebekah?"

"It's not that I don't like her," Elena clarifies. "I don't like that Stefan's hiding out with her just because things didn't work out with Caroline."

"You wouldn't also happen to be feeling guilty because you basically _told_ Caroline to get with Klaus, would you?"

Elena glares at him. "You're not helping. I already feel like I've failed him as a best friend."

Damon just watches her quietly for a moment. "Remember what you said the other day? About how I'm a good friend?"

Elena tilts her head at him, furrows her brow. "Well, you are."

"Yeah, well, so are you. And I know you still feel weird about keeping this from Stefan, but I don't want you to ever doubt what a great friend you are."

Her lips part in surprise, and he feels an overwhelming urge to kiss her. _Down, boy_. "Damon."

"I'm serious," he insists, covering her hand with hers where it rests on the counter. "Not just to Stefan, but to me. You've been so understanding about everything. I can't say that if the roles were reversed I'd be able to forgive and forget as easily as you have."

Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and she looks away from him, bites her lip. "There was nothing to forgive," she tells him. "It was all a big misunderstanding. Once I knew that, there wasn't really anything to hold over you anymore. You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Neither do you," he counters. He moves around the island so they're standing face to face, and she links their fingers together on the counter. "If I haven't said it enough times already, I'm sorry. About everything."

"I know you are."

"Do you?" He tilts her chin up, forces her to meet his eyes. "Do you know how much it kills me to know that I hurt you? That I said so many horrible things to you and you didn't deserve any of it?"

"Damon, it's okay," she insists, her pretty eyes searching his own. "I told you. There's nothing to forgive. I just want to move on."

"Me too," he whispers, watching her carefully. He moves in just a little bit closer. "I'm ready if you are."

It's a loaded statement, and he knows she recognizes what he really means. He searches her eyes for any signs of hesitation, of apprehension. He gives her every opportunity to stop him, to push him away, to tell him what an idiot he is. But she just watches him, waits for him. He moves in a fraction of an inch, hears the way her breath catches in her throat, and he's a goner.

Her lips are soft, pliant, and it only takes a second for her to respond to him. She presses her lips more firmly against his, drapes her arms over his shoulders to pull him closer. He resists the urge to deepen the kiss, decides to just enjoy this moment right here. He lets his hands fall to her hips, then wraps his arms around the small of her back, pulls her against him. She sighs into his mouth, and fuck, she doesn't even know what she does to him, does she?

"Elena!"

They break apart suddenly as if they've been shocked with an electric current. He looks over his shoulder just as Alaric comes around the corner and into the kitchen. "Hey, Jeremy's on the phone. He wants to talk to you."

Damon looks back at Elena, who looks like she's not quite processing at full speed. He smirks. "Uh, can you tell him I'll call him back?"

Alaric eyes the two of them suspiciously for a moment. "Sure," he says, shoots Elena what must be a meaningful look, and disappears again.

Elena lets out a long breath, and he turns back to face her. Their eyes lock, and he can't help the grin that spreads across his face when he sees the coy smile on hers. "You sure you don't wanna go talk to Jeremy?" he teases.

"No," she says breathlessly.

He steps toward her once more. "No?" he murmurs. "What _do_ you want to do, then?"

Her eyes bore into his for one long, intense moment. Then her smile turns into a smirk, just like that. "I want a rematch."

She pushes past him and skips into the living room, and he just stands there for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Then he smirks. _Damn_. She's cute as a button and sexy as hell, all rolled into one. He's definitely met his match.

 

… … …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas eve!! I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday!


	12. the weight of it all sinking in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "always take you back" by night terrors of 1927.
> 
> WARNING: violence.

… … …

 

For most of the day on Sunday, Elena feels like she's floating on a cloud. Ever since Damon left her house the night before, she's been in a sort of trance, reliving the moment he kissed her over and over in her head. The way he spoke so honestly, the way he looked at her as if she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, the way his blue eyes sparkled. _God_. She really doesn't know how she's still standing upright, because that kiss knocked her on her ass in the best way possible.

"Elena!" Caroline snaps.

She jolts out of her reverie, blinking. "What?"

"Where the hell _are_ you?" Bonnie laughs, throwing a fry at her from across the table. "Because you're definitely not sitting here with us."

Caroline turns to Elena, narrows her eyes. "You have that look in your eye."

Elena tries to plaster a neutral expression on her face, but she has to bite her lip to keep the smile from taking over. "What look?"

"That _I-got-kissed-by-a-hot-guy_ look." Caroline gasps. "Damon kissed you!"

"Shhh!" Elena hisses, giggling. "We don't need to broadcast it to the entire Mystic Grill."

"I beg to differ," Bonnie gapes. "When did this happen?"

"Last night," Elena grins.

"And?" Caroline prods, excitement gleaming in her eye. "How was it?"

"It was…" Elena sighs dreamily. "It was perfect. _He's_ perfect. I never knew a kiss could be that good."

"Damn," Caroline sighs forlornly. "I really hope that's a Salvatore brother trait."

Elena breaks from her trance for a moment to glance at Caroline, raising one eyebrow. "What are you doing thinking about kissing Stefan? Don't you have Klaus to handle that for you these days?"

Caroline scowls. "Doesn't mean a girl can't dream, okay?"

"Okay, that's enough talking about kissing," Bonnie pouts. "Enzo didn't even _try_ to kiss me last night."

"Yes, how _was_ The Date, Take Two?" Caroline asks, sipping on her milkshake.

Bonnie sighs dramatically. "It was _perfect_."

Elena narrows her eyes, throws a fry at her friend. "Don't mock," she scolds.

"I can't help it," Bonnie laughs. "You look like you stepped straight out of a Nicholas Sparks novel or something."

"Listen," Elena smiles, "when the guy you've liked since you were ten finally kisses you, you get to be a little dramatic about it. Okay?"

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Fine, you get a pass this once."

Caroline smirks. "You're dodging the question. How was the makeup date?"

"What does it matter?" Bonnie leans back against the booth. "It's not like it can top Elena's _perfect_ night anyway." She laughs as she dodges another wayward fry, and Elena knows she's never, ever gonna live this down.

 

… … …

 

Damon feels like he's completely lost his mind. For the past 36 hours, he's felt this visceral need to be near her, to feel her in his arms again, to kiss her the way he did the other night, to draw that soft, happy sigh from her lips. Jesus Christ. He's never been so affected by a simple _kiss_ before, but then again, he's also never been affected by another girl the way he is by Elena Gilbert.

So by Monday afternoon, he feels like he's crawling out of his skin in anticipation of seeing her again. He passed her in the hallway earlier in the day on his way to class, and it took every ounce of self control he has not to pull her into an empty classroom. But when he sees her walking to cheerleading practice by herself, he can't resist anymore. He sends her a quick text - _meet me behind the fieldhouse_ \- and sneaks back into the shadows to wait for her. He hears her footsteps approaching, feels his heartbeat quicken in anticipation. Fuck, what is this girl doing to him?

She comes around the corner. "Damon? Wha-"

It's like something snaps inside of him. Before she can even blink, he has his arms around her and his lips on hers, and she gasps in surprise before she giggles into his mouth. She returns his kiss, and he feels his blood simmering under the surface of his skin. What is it about doing this with her that just feels so right?

She pulls her mouth away from his, but he simply moves his lips down to her jaw, nips at the skin underneath her ear. "What are we doing?" she asks breathlessly.

He smirks against her skin. "I thought it was obvious," he chuckles.

"Damon," she pleads. He kisses his way back up to her lips, and she whines in protest, but it takes her another moment before she finally pushes him away. He rests his hands on her hips to keep her close, and she brings hers up to twine around his neck. "What does this mean?"

He wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains. It's question he usually dreads hearing from a girl he's trying to kiss, but from her, it's not so difficult to answer. He can't help but tease her a little bit, though. He smirks down at her. "It means we're both damn good kissers, and we should be kissing all the time."

"Damon," she laughs as he leans in again, kisses her chin instead of her lips. "I'm serious. If you're just looking for sex, then…"

"Stop," he groans. He closes his eyes, willing away the images that flood his brain. (What? He's not twelve anymore, but he's not above the raging teenage hormones just yet.) He sighs, opens his eyes to meet hers. She looks nervous, apprehensive, and he hates it. "It's not that. Not with you."

Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink and he can't help but smirk. "Then what?" she wonders quietly, searching his eyes for the answer. "What does this mean?"

Something tells him that she knows what it means, but she wants the validation of hearing him say it. He supposes that's not too much to ask. "It means… it means I like you, and you like me, and we should see how far that gets us."

The smile on her face could light up the Empire State Building, and it makes him grin back at her. "Well, in that case."

She pulls him in for another kiss, and the way she's smiling against his lips is so fucking cute he can hardly stand it. He pulls his lips away from hers, kisses her cheek, her nose, her eyelid, her forehead, her jaw, her laugh ringing in his ears all the while.

"Damon!" she all but shrieks, and they pull away from each other in alarm. She bites her lip to keep from laughing out loud again, and they listen carefully for signs that anyone heard her. When no one comes, she lets out a breath of relief and turns back to him. "We can't do this here."

"Okay," he relents, pulling her into his arms again. "I'll kiss you later, then." He smirks, kisses her lips one last time, and she backs away, holding onto his hand until she can't reach anymore. He decides he'll wait for a moment, just to avoid any suspicion, and he smirks to himself. As much as he would love to be able to hold her hand in the hallways or kiss her at her locker, he has to admit that sneaking around with her is fucking hot, and if that's the way she wants to play it… well. He can't say he'll mind, if they keep meeting like this.

 

… … …

 

Even though she's been wrapped up in Damon for the past few days, by Wednesday she's completely and totally fed up with Stefan and Caroline's drama. She doesn't know which is more annoying to her: the fact that Caroline still obviously likes Stefan and won't admit it, or the fact that Stefan is hiding with Rebekah so he doesn't have to admit the fact that he still likes Caroline. Or it could be option C: the fact that they both like each other but are too stubborn to do anything about it.

So when Caroline's leaning against the locker next to hers and says contemptuously, "I saw Stefan and his _girlfriend_ at the Grill last night," Elena feels something inside her snap.

"Caroline," she snaps, and her friend looks up at her, eyes wide in surprise. "You walked away from him, okay? You chose Klaus. That's fine, but you can't be upset with him for moving on when this whole thing was _your_ decision."

Caroline scowls. "You know that wasn't easy for me," she argues. "I wanted to be with him, but he refused. What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" Elena throws her arms up in exasperation. "But you made your bed, and now you have to lie in it. I'm sick of hearing about it from both of you."

Caroline quirks her brow. "From both of us?"

Elena levels her gaze at her friend. "What, you think he just asked Rebekah out and all his feelings for you went away?" She rolls her eyes. "Whatever. I'm done getting in the middle of this."

Caroline opens her mouth to speak, but Elena turns away from her. She feels guilty for a moment, but she really does need to get to class, and she really is sick of hearing about it. But as the day wears on, she feels increasingly like she may need to interfere just one last time.

She catches up with Stefan as he's walking to football practice. "Hey!" she greets, a bright smile on her face.

"Hi," he laughs, looking over at her. "You're in a good mood." Elena shrugs, and he furrows his brow. "Actually, you've been in an exceptionally good mood all week. What's going on?"

"Just…" she scrambles, tries to think of a logical explanation to give him. "Just having a pretty good week. Nothing out of the ordinary."

He eyes her suspiciously for a moment, a smirk plastered on his face. "Okay," he concedes. Something catches his eye, and she follows his line of sight. More like some _one_ , she realizes. She decides this is her opening. "You know, Caroline said she saw you and Rebekah at the Grill last night," she says warily.

"Oh yeah?" he says distractedly.

"Yes," she continues. "She almost sounded… I don't know… jealous?"

He doesn't respond, and she sighs, steps in front of him to stop his forward motion. "Stefan, what the hell are you doing?"

He snaps out of his trance, looks at her in confusion. "I'm walking to football practice."

She rolls her eyes. "No, I mean, what are you doing with Rebekah when you feel the way you do about Caroline?"

Stefan's gaze hardens just a little bit, and he looks away from her. "What are you talking about?"

"Please," she scoffs. "It hasn't been that long since you were going on and on about how much you liked Caroline, and now I'm supposed to believe that you've moved on? Just like that?"

Stefan rolls his eyes at her. "Caroline didn't want me, Elena. Rebekah did, and I really do like her. It's as simple as that."

"No, it's not," she groans in frustration. "It's not, and you know it. Not when you feel the way I know you do about Caroline."

"Stop," he snaps. She reels back a little bit, and he sighs, runs his hand through his hair, looks back at her. "Look, she's taken, okay? It doesn't even matter. I've already been down that road with her, and it didn't turn out in my favor, if you recall."

She studies him for a moment, and her frustration fades a little bit. "It's not _real_ , Stefan," she says quietly. "If you wanted her, you could have her. Trust me."

He finally meets her eyes, and she sees the hurt bubbling to the surface. "It's not really about whether or not I want her," he insists. "It's about whether or not she wants me."

And he's right, she supposes. This was Caroline's decision - isn't that what they argued about this morning? This isn't what Stefan wanted, it's what _Caroline_ wanted. But she also knows that if Stefan fought for her, if he really told her how he felt, that she would come back to him in a heartbeat. She sighs, watches as her best friend walks away from her, and wonders if either of her friends will ever allow themselves to be happy.

 

… … …

 

All day Friday, Stefan has this feeling in the pit of his stomach that he can't describe. Tonight is arguably the biggest game of the season. They're undefeated up to this point, and this is the toughest remaining game on the schedule. If they win tonight, they have a great chance of finishing the regular season undefeated, and they'll be in prime position when the playoffs come around. But a win tonight is nowhere near a given; the team they're facing is also undefeated, and from what Stefan's heard, their defense is the best in the state.

When the clock winds down and the buzzer sounds, Stefan realizes what that feeling in the pit of his stomach was. It was dread.

They played well, but not well enough. The scouting reports were right; their defense was stifling. Damon could hardly get a pass off without being chased down by a defensive lineman, and he was sacked so many times that Stefan lost count. Stefan didn't help matters, though, as he didn't catch a single pass that was thrown to him; he even got chewed out by Coach because one of them turned into an interception that the other team returned for a touchdown.

And that's where the dread comes from, Stefan realizes. Because no matter how tough Coach was on him, on either of them, it's nothing compared to what he knows they're gonna face when they get home that night.

He stands side by side with his brother on their front porch, and he knows they're both debating how long they can wait before they have to go inside and face the music. They turn to face one another, and Damon sighs. "How bad do you think it'll be?"

Stefan mulls it over, shrugs. "Considering we lost? Pretty damn bad."

Damon nods, resigned. He faces forward again, takes a deep breath. "Listen, whatever happens?" He turns to face his brother again. "I've got your back."

Stefan swallows, nods. "Back 'atcha, brother."

He sucks in a breath, decides he can't bear to stand here in anticipation for another second, pushes open the front door. When they get to the living room, Giuseppe is standing in front of the fireplace pacing, drinking from a bottle of bourbon. Stefan notes that the bottle is almost empty. Fantastic.

He looks up when he sees them approaching, stops pacing. "Have a seat," he says lowly, calmly.

When they do, Stefan looks up at his mother, tries to read her facial expression, but she keeps it carefully blank. Stefan knows from years of experience that it can't mean anything good.

"Do you have any idea," Giuseppe begins, "of the damage you boys have done tonight?"

Stefan tries to think of a response, but he figures in this situation, it's probably better not to say anything at all. When neither of them respond, Giuseppe's calm façade disintegrates into pure rage. He throws the bottle into the fireplace, and glass splatters across the carpet while the alcohol stokes the flames. The two boys reel back in shock. "Answer me!" he roars.

"We got beat by a better team, Dad," Damon says quietly but clearly.

"Don't give me that bullshit," Giuseppe shouts. "You're the best quarterback in the state, Damon. You're supposed to be a playmaker. You looked slow and sluggish out there. What college scout would want a quarterback like that?"

Damon doesn't respond, and Giuseppe levels his gaze a Stefan. "And _you_. Don't get me started on you. Your brother threw you ten perfect passes, and you couldn't catch a single one of them. _Ten!_ " Stefan swears he hears his father growl, low in his throat. "Not to mention the one that resulted in a touchdown for the other team." He looks between the two of them. "You two disgraced the Salvatore name tonight."

Damon stands, and Stefan's eyes widen. "What the hell is the big deal about the _Salvatore name_?" he snaps.

Before Stefan can even blink, Giuseppe has his hand around Damon's throat. "You will not speak to me that way," he seethes. "I am your father, and you will show me some respect!"

Stefan doesn't think before he stands, attempts to push his father off of his brother, and he's rewarded with a backhand across the face. He can't catch his balance before he stumbles to the ground, and the next thing he knows, his mother is intervening.

"Giuseppe, please," she cries, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Shut up, you bitch!" Giuseppe roars, turning to backhand her as well. She shrieks in pain and falls to the ground, and Stefan crawls over to her. He watches as Giuseppe's distraction allows his hold on Damon's throat to loosen enough that his brother staggers backward, gasping for breath and falling onto the couch. He holds his sore throat, and his breath comes in ragged spurts.

Giuseppe stands in the center of it all, his eyes burning with rage. "All three of you disgust me," he spits, stumbling out of the room drunkenly.

Stefan looks down at his mother with wide eyes. He stands, helps her to do the same. "Are you okay?" he asks hoarsely.

Lily holds her sore cheek, her eyes wet with tears, and she forces a smile. "I'm fine, honey. Are you okay?" She turns to face her other son, her eyes widening. She moves to sit next to Damon. "Oh, my boys," she murmurs, choking back a sob. "I'm so sorry."

Stefan sits down next to her. "Mom, it's not-"

"He's drunk," she says, closing her eyes. "He's drunk, and he's not thinking straight. He'll be better in the morning."

Stefan eyes her in disbelief. "What?"

"He doesn't mean it," she insists. "He only wants the best for you boys, I promise."

"Jesus Christ, Mom," Damon rasps, standing up and turning around to face her. "Are you blind? Did you not see what the hell just happened here?"

"Please, Damon," she pleads. "He just-"

"I'm so sick of you making excuses for him!" he yells, and Stefan watches as his mother reels back in shock, her face ashen. "How can you not see the kind of man he is?"

"He's my husband," Lily whispers.

"And he's my father," Damon spits. "That doesn't mean I have to accept that kind of behavior, and neither do you."

"I-" she sucks in a shaky breath, turns to face Stefan. "I need to go check on him."

She leaves the room, and Stefan eyes his brother warily. He nods toward his brother's neck. "That's gonna bruise."

Damon runs his hand along his throat, wincing. "Yeah, well, so's your eye."

"Quite a pair, aren't we?" he jokes, but it falls flat. He lets out a long breath, rests his elbows on his knees. He looks up at his brother again. "What are we gonna do?"

Damon puts his hands on his hips, looks up at the ceiling. He sighs. "I don't know about you, but I need a beer."

Stefan chokes out a laugh, the sound foreign and strange. He nods. "You're on, brother."

 

… … …


	13. the starting of my greatest fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "make it without you" by andrew belle.
> 
> happy new year y'all!!

 

… … …

 

By the time Monday morning rolls around, Elena is frantic. She hasn't heard from Stefan or Damon all weekend, not since the football game on Friday, and that makes her incredibly nervous. She knows how their father can get when they don't perform well, and considering the outcome of the game, she knows his reaction can't have been good. She's texted them, left them both messages all weekend, and nothing. She almost went over there to check on them, but she was afraid that would do more harm than good. She hardly slept at all last night worrying about them, and when she sees them walk through the school doors together, she's never been more relieved to see them in her life.

Until they come closer, and she feels the blood drain from her face.

They look awful. Both of them. There are streaks of black and blue covering Damon's neck in the distinct shape and pattern of a handprint, and Stefan's left eye is practically swollen shut. She gasps audibly, her worry from the past three days bubbling over.

"Oh my God," she breathes out when they approach her.

Stefan manages a half grin. "It's not as bad as it looks," he jokes.

She wants to be angry with him for joking about this, but she's so relieved to see him that she just throws her arms around him. She catches Damon's eye from where he stands slightly behind Stefan, and her eyes fill with tears. "I was so worried about you," she says into Stefan's ear, but she holds Damon's gaze. His eyes soften and he cracks a little half grin, looks away from her.

"I'm fine," Stefan assures her. "Really."

"You are not fine," she scolds, wiping away a stray tear angrily. "You are not fine, Stefan."

"Yes I am," he insists. "We both are."

She hugs him again, and when she catches Damon's gaze this time, she's more tempted than ever to throw her arms around him, right here in the middle of the hallway, secrets and lies be damned. But before she can act on that impulse, he breaks her gaze, takes a deep breath, starts down the hallway.

"See you at practice, brother," he mumbles as he walks away.

She feels a stab of pain in her chest, but she turns to Stefan and sighs. "What the hell happened?"

He sighs, closes his eyes. He looks as though he's in pain. "It's not important," he says. "It's over. I'm fine, I promise."

"Listen to me." She takes his face gently in her hands so he has no choice but to meet her gaze. "You promised me you would come to me if it ever got bad again."

"I know," he says apologetically. "I'm sorry. But Damon and I…" he sighs. "We just didn't want you to worry. Everything's fine now."

"Do you really believe that?" she asks him, her voice quiet but stern.

"Yes," he says. "I promise you, Elena. If this happens again… I promise, I'll come to you."

Elena studies his eyes for a moment, lets out a long breath and steps away from him. "Okay," she relents. She sighs. "Let's just… go to history." She rarely feels thankful that her history teacher is also her guardian, but this is one of those moments. She knows Ric will know what to do.

 

… … …

 

For most of high school, Damon has relished the attention he gets at school. Girls staring at him longingly, guys glaring at him in jealousy - it doesn't really matter, but it's never bugged him before. Until today, when he wishes he could crawl into a hole and never come out. His neck looks gruesome. He knows it does. Saturday morning was a bitch, but now it looks worse than it feels. He contemplated stealing some of his mother's makeup to cover it up, but he wouldn't even know where to start with that, so he just sucked it up.

He's regretting that decision now, as he makes his way out to the football field for practice, where most of his teammates are staring at him. He knows people have been whispering about him all day - he and Stefan, actually - and that news of his injuries have no doubt made the rounds by now. He just sighs and ignores the stares as he heads toward the locker room to change.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he takes it out, sees a text from Elena. _Meet me behind the fieldhouse_. He smirks, walks into the fieldhouse and puts his stuff down next to his locker before he heads out the back door.

She's waiting there, her eyes worried and sad, and he melts just a little bit. "Hi."

"Hi," she breathes out, throwing her arms around him. She lets out a shaky breath, and he knows she's on the verge of tears. He runs his hand down her back soothingly. "I was so worried."

"I'm okay," he reminds her.

She pulls back, her eyes locked on the bruises on his neck. She runs her fingertips over them gently, and he stills under her touch. "Does it hurt?" she whispers.

"Not anymore," he assures her. "I promise. I'm fine."

She wraps her arms around his neck gingerly, and he pulls her close. "Is it really bad?" she asks, searching his eyes for his honest answer. "Do you need a place to stay?"

"We can handle it, Elena. It won't happen again."

"How can you be sure?"

She looks so distraught, and he notices the bags under her eyes, feels a pang of guilt for not returning her calls all weekend. Did she sleep at all? He thought he'd spare her the gory details, the drama. He didn't really consider what it might do to her. He pulls her closer, his arms around her waist, his forehead resting on hers. "I just am," he says quietly, confidently. "Don't worry, okay?"

She bites her lip, searches his eyes for another moment, and finally nods. He lets out a breath, kisses her gently. "I've gotta go to practice."

She nods again, pulling away from him. "Be careful," she insists.

He kisses her cheek. "I will."

He heads back into the locker room, reveling in how good it feels to have someone who cares about him, who worries about him like Elena does. He catches Enzo's eye as he approaches his locker, and he smirks at his friend. "It's looks worse than it feels."

"Jesus, bro." Enzo's face is pale and shocked. "Your dad…"

"Shh," Damon hisses. "It's fine. I'm fine. I can handle it."

Enzo watches him warily. "Look man, you know, if you ever…" he swallows.

"I know," Damon finishes for him, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Thanks."

The last thing he wants is anyone's pity. He's not a charity case. He's been dealt a shitty hand, but he's got things to be grateful for. Like the fact that there are only six more months until he graduates and he can get the hell out of his house. He smirks. Yes, that's definitely something to be grateful for. Now he's just gotta play his ass off the rest of the season to make sure he's got somewhere to go when he leaves.

 

… … …

 

He's not sure when it happened, not sure when everything changed, but Stefan thinks that somehow over the last couple of months, he and Damon have called a truce. He doesn't know if he'd go so far as to say they're friends, but they're definitely not enemies anymore. He's grateful for that, especially now, when everything seems to be crumbling around them. At least, through all of this, they can stand united as brothers, support one another. If there's one thing he's learned from Elena, it's that when it's all said and done, there's nothing more important than the bond of family. He's never quite understood that the way he does now.

"You okay?" Elena asks, and he looks up from his history textbook, wondering how long she's been studying him.

He grins. "I'm fine," he insists. "How many times are you gonna ask me that before you believe me?"

It's Tuesday evening, and since they have a big history test the next morning, they figured they should probably study at least a little bit. They even tried to get Ric to help them study, and Stefan may or may not have played the sympathy card, but to no avail. The man is nothing if not stubborn.

She narrows her eyes at him. "You don't have to pretend with me, Stefan," she says quietly. "What's on your mind?"

He swallows, looks away from her for a moment. He doesn't even know where to start, really. "Things between Damon and I have been strange lately."

"Strange?" Her brow furrows in confusion. "I thought things have been going well."

"Yeah, that's the thing," he says. "We've hated each other for so long, and now it's like the world has flipped on its axis."

She rolls her eyes at him. "First of all, if you're getting along well with your _brother_ , that means the world is right where it belongs. And second of all," she ducks down to catch his eye. "You never hated each other."

"I came pretty close to it," he argues.

"No you didn't," she scoffs. "You just didn't understand, and you were frustrated and hurt and angry. But I know you never hated him."

"It's like…" he sucks in a breath. "It's like, all this time, I thought it was Damon driving us apart, when it was really Dad." He furrows his brow in thought. "He wanted us to be at odds, wanted us to drift apart, so that he could have his influence on both of us without us teaming up against him."

It's something he realized after the big blow up in the living room last week. Giuseppe was stronger when Stefan and Damon weren't speaking, when he could control Damon's football career and bully Stefan without having to worry about interference from the other. But when he had Damon in a chokehold, and Stefan stepped up to fight back… he saw it. The flash of surprise in his father's eyes; surprise that came from a place of fear. Because if they're united against him, he can't use one of them to tear down the other anymore.

"I could see that," Elena acknowledges, nodding her head.

"I don't know what to do with that," Stefan admits quietly. "I don't know… I spent so long being angry…"

Elena sighs. "Stefan, if you want to make up with him, you're already most of the way there. You just need to flesh out all the bad stuff between the two of you and move on."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that," he tells her.

"Okay, that's fine," she says. "It doesn't have to be this difficult, Stefan. Just… be his brother. That's what you both need right now."

And she's right. She's always right. Damon is his brother, and regardless of what's happened in the past, regardless of whether or not they'll ever be friends like they were before, they need each other right now. Maybe, he thinks ironically, whatever's tearing his family apart will eventually bring he and his brother back together.

 

… … …

 

After Stefan leaves that evening, Elena finds herself sitting on the swing on her front porch as the sun sets. She has so many memories on this swing; she and her mother used to sit out here on summer nights and look up at the stars. She wonders if, now, one of those stars might be her mother, shining down on her, watching over her. She's so very thankful to have had parents who loved her.

She can't stop thinking about Stefan, and Damon, and the way their parents have been treating them. Between last weekend when she couldn't reach them and this week after she found out what happened, she's basically worried herself sick. She can't keep this to herself anymore. She knows Stefan is trusting her, but this is not something she can handle on her own. This is a matter of Stefan's safety, and Damon's safety, for that matter. She needs someone to know.

"Hey, kiddo," Alaric greets quietly as he closes the front door behind him. He takes a seat beside her on the swing, studies her profile. "You okay?"

She sighs, feels her eyes well up with tears. "No."

"Oh, honey." Alaric sighs, puts his arm around her. She leans her head on his shoulder, lets the tears fall. "I know you're worried about them."

"I just can't…" she inhales a shaky breath. "I can't imagine what it must be like. To have to live with someone like that."

"You've been lucky," he murmurs. "You'll never have to find out. But they'll be okay."

"How do you know?"

Alaric lifts his head, turns to her, and she lifts her head to face him. "If I tell you something, it stays between us, okay?" Elena eyes him warily, nods her understanding, and Alaric sighs. "I filed a report with the school social worker on Monday."

She freezes. "What?"

"I had to," he reminds her. "I'm required by law to report any suspicions of child abuse. When I saw Stefan's black eye, and then Damon's bruises…" he looks at her. "I'm just looking out for them. I had to follow protocol."

Elena nods. "What's going to happen now?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I'm not sure. I've never had this happen before. But we're gonna keep them safe, okay?" He runs his hand along the back of her head soothingly. "The next time I see something like that… I can promise you, Elena, they won't be staying in that house anymore."

"The next time?" Elena pales.

"There won't be a next time," Alaric assures her. "Don't worry, okay? This will all be sorted out."

She trusts Ric. She really does. She just hopes he can keep his promises.

 

… … …

 

By Thursday morning, Stefan notices that the stares have died down quite a bit as the week has progressed. He still gets the odd sympathetic look, since his black eye is still healing, but he doubts any of those people who are apologizing with their eyes know the extent of the fucked-up Salvatore family saga. _Family_ , he scoffs to himself. He doesn't even know what that word means anymore.

He's taking his time getting his things from his locker, attempting to wait as long as possible before he has to walk to class and face the student body, when she approaches him. He knows it's her. He doesn't know how he knows, but he just does, even before she speaks.

"Hi," she greets.

He doesn't look over at her. "How's Klaus?" he asks, disdain dripping from his voice. He's being transparent, and he doesn't even care.

She pauses a beat, scoffs. "How's Rebekah?"

 _Touché_ , he thinks bitterly. "What do you want, Caroline? I'm really not in the mood for your games today."

He finally looks up at her, just in time to see the hurt flash across her face, before it's replaced with a scowl. "Well, I was coming to check on you, make sure you're okay after… everything. But you're obviously fine."

Oh, so she knows. For some reason that strikes a nerve with him. "I'm not fine," he snaps _. My family is being torn to shreds_ , he wants to say, but he bites his tongue. No need to let the whole school now how screwed up his life really is. "And why do you suddenly care? Do you and Klaus even come up for air long enough to pay attention to the world outside?"

She huffs out a breath, her mouth parted in disbelief. On any other day, he'd feel bad, but after the weekend he's had, after the semester he's had, he just doesn't care anymore. She closes her mouth, looks away from him for a second. When she turns back, her face has hardened again. "Listen, I practically threw myself at you and you barely blinked," she hisses. "Forgive me for moving on."

"Yeah, well, I practically told you I wanted to be with you and you ran in the other direction," he counters. "So forgive me for doing the same."

"Whatever, Stefan." She rolls her eyes, and then she's stomping down the hall away from him.

 _Barely blinked?_ Fuck, is that what she really thinks, that she had no effect on him whatsoever? She turned his world on its head, for God's sake. She made him question everything he thought was true, challenged him, intrigued him. She had him so twisted up he didn't know which way was up; hell, he could even argue that she still does. He gets that she's used to guys falling at her feet, but he never thought she was so oblivious she couldn't tell that he'd fallen head over heels for her. He tried to give her the respect of time to grieve, time to heal from her previous relationship, and she decided he wasn't worth waiting for.

Then he remembers what happened with Damon. How Stefan made assumptions about his brother, what he thought, how he felt, why he acted the way he did. How he wasted _five years_ being angry and hurt, simply because he refused to see the other side of the coin. Is that what's happening here? Did he completely misread the situation? When he thinks about it that way, he can see her point. She told him she wanted him, and he turned her away. How must that have made her feel? He thought he was doing her a favor, thought he was giving her a courtesy that not many other guys would give her, but he pushed her away in the process. Pushed her right into Klaus' arms, if he's being truthful.

He's starting to realize that there's more to every situation that meets the eye; that there are two sides to every story, and he's too quick to trust his own interpretation without considering the other perspective.

Shit. His head is throbbing. How the hell is he supposed to focus on school with all these self-reflective thoughts bouncing around in his head? Introspection is exhausting.

 

… … …

 

Caroline feels like she's so mixed up these days, she hardly knows which way is up. She doesn't regret her decision - her arrangement with Klaus has been very, um, mutually satisfying - but some days she wonders if she's going about this all wrong, because Elena was right. She's mad at Stefan for moving on, and she's jealous that he chose someone else, which would be valid except she did the exact same thing. One could even argue that her decision to hook up with Klaus is the only reason Stefan moved on in the first place. She made her choice, and now she has to live with the consequences.

"How's Klaus?" Bonnie asks coyly at lunch on Thursday.

"Satisfied," Caroline smirks, laughing when her friends make faces at her in disgust. "What? You asked."

"Come on, Care," Bonnie insists. "When are you gonna stop hiding out with a guy you don't even like and admit that you have real feelings for Stefan?"

Caroline scowls. "Why are we _still_ talking about this?" she snaps. "I made my choice. Whatever was going on between Stefan and I is over."

Elena rolls her eyes. "Yeah, okay."

Caroline glares at her. " _You_ were the one who told me to live with my decision."

"I know," Elena nods. "But living with your decision and being in denial are two different things."

"I'm not in denial," she mutters. "Stefan's moved on. What I feel for him doesn't matter anymore."

"I swear to God, between the two of you…" Elena sighs in exasperation. "If you two would just admit that you like each other, all of this angst and uncertainty would go away."

"Look, I'm sorry that you're caught in the middle, okay?" Caroline says. "I know it's not easy for you. But you asked me to move on, and that's what I'm trying to do, so can you just let me do it?"

Her friends just stare at her for a moment before Bonnie shrugs and Elena sighs. Okay, one mission accomplished. Now to shift the attention to another very valid topic of discussion.

"So, Elena," she smirks. "How was your makeout session with Damon behind the fieldhouse yesterday?"

Elena sputters in surprise, and Caroline and Bonnie laugh. _Mission accomplished_.

 

… … …

 

For the first time all week, Damon doesn't dread coming home from practice, because he knows since it's Thursday, Giuseppe will be working late. _Finally_. He feels like he's been walking on eggshells all week, just trying not to set off another explosion. So far, he's been successful, but he knows it's just a matter of time.

What is strange, though, is that the house is eerily quiet when he walks in, and his mother's car isn't in the driveway. His brow furrows. He doesn't remember her saying anything about doing anything this afternoon, and she's almost always home after practice to make them dinner. "Mom?" he calls out, for some strange reason. He doesn't know why he thinks he'll get a response.

He climbs the stairs to his bedroom and sets his stuff down on the floor by the door. He almost walks right by without even noticing it, but as he's stripping his shirt off to head to the shower, he catches a glimpse of a piece of paper lying on his bed. He's almost certain it wasn't there this morning, and as he moves closer, he sees his name written in his mother's perfect cursive.

_My darling Damon…_

He honestly can't believe what he's reading. He doesn't know how he didn't see this coming, how he never thought that it would be a possibility. He's so in shock right now that he can hardly even process.

He hears his door open and looks up and into the eyes of his brother. "Did you…" he swallows. "Is she really…"

Damon nods, folds up his note, sets it on the bed beside him. "She's gone."

He locks eyes with Stefan again, and he knows that they're both thinking the exact same thing: things are about to get a whole lot worse.

 

… … …


	14. ash and dust on my door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "fire breather" by laurel.

 

… … …

 

Stefan waits for Elena on her front porch Thursday night. She has a few tutoring sessions on Thursday afternoons, and he knows she should be back right about now. Ric has tried to offer him food, told him to come inside, but Stefan's so stunned, so numb, that he can't even really process what's going on. He just needs to talk to Elena.

He doesn't even look up when she walks up the front path, says his name, sits down beside him. He can feel her worried gaze boring into the side of his face, but he honestly thinks if he looks at her, he'll fall apart. So he just stares unseeingly at the house across the street, tries to process things enough to tell her what's going on.

Finally, he takes a deep breath. "My mom left."

She takes a sharp breath in surprise. "She… what? What do you mean?"

"I mean she's gone." He scrubs his hands over his face, runs them through his hair. "She left us. Just like that."

"Oh, Stefan," she says quietly, tearfully. Yeah, he definitely can't look at her right now. He's barely holding it together as it is.

"She knows what he's like," he mumbles, more to himself than anything. "She saw what happened last weekend. She's watched it escalate since we were kids. Hell, she let it happen. She was a victim herself."

He takes a beat, tries to collect his thoughts, while she studies him patiently.

"I'm not mad at her for leaving," he admits finally. "I can understand why. I mean, he treated her just as badly, if not worse." He sucks in a breath, turns to face her. "I'm mad that she didn't take us with her. That she just left us with him." His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, wills the tears away. She runs her hand down his back soothingly. "He's gonna be so angry, and he's gonna take it out on us."

"Maybe it'll be a wakeup call," Elena says after a moment. "Maybe…"

"A leopard doesn't change its spots, Elena," he snaps, then sighs. "Sorry." He tries to collect himself, speaks more calmly this time. "We know who he is, what he's capable of. We don't mean anything to him." Elena rests her head on his shoulder. He's quiet for a moment, processing, trying to formulate his thoughts into coherent sentences. When he finally speaks again, a tear betrays him and slides down his cheek. "I'm scared."

"I'm sorry," Elena chokes, and he feels her tears against his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Stefan."

He takes a deep, shaky breath, lets the tears fall freely now. "I don't… I don't have anyone," he chokes out. "I have no one."

"You have me," she says sternly, lifting her head to look at him. "Hey. Stefan, you have me. You have Alaric and Jenna." She pauses for a moment. "And you have Damon."

He lets out a sob, covers his face with his hands, doubles over in pain. She wraps her arms around his torso, pulls him close to her, and he leans on her, lets her support him. He feels completely powerless, completely hopeless. He doesn't know where things go from here, can't even fathom the possible ways this could end, but he knows one thing: there's no way it ends well.

 

… … …

 

Damon fucking hates being at home these days. Even before his mom left, being home feels like a ticking time bomb. He doesn't know when his dad will blow up again, or what will set him off. Thankfully, Friday night's game was an uneventful rout, and Giuseppe drank himself into a coma before he and Stefan even got home that night. But Damon spends all day Saturday tip-toeing around, trying to avoid even a glimpse of his father, and by late afternoon he's going out of his mind.

He fires off a quick text to Elena - _pick you up in 10, be ready_ \- and grabs his keys.

She's waiting on her front porch when he pulls up, and he smirks. She climbs in the passenger seat, shoots him a worried look he's become all too familiar with these days. "Are you okay?" she asks. "What's going on?"

He rolls his eyes, smiles at her. "Can't a guy whisk a girl away on a surprise date because he wants to?"

She blushes, smiles a little. "I guess I shouldn't complain," she murmurs, leans in to kiss him. "Hi."

"Hi," he grins. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she agrees, buckling her seatbelt as he pulls out of the drive. "Where's Stefan, and more importantly, where does he think you are?"

"He has a date with Rebekah," Damon reminds her. "Guess we had the same idea."

"Oh yeah?" she questions. "What's that?"

"That a pretty girl can help you cope with just about anything," he smirks.

She smiles at him, and her eyes soften. "Damon," she says quietly.

He knows she's worried about him. He knows that Stefan poured his heart out to her, told her everything, and that she's probably waiting for Damon to do the same. He's just not ready to hash it all out yet. He doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeve like Stefan does; he needs time to process, time to rationalize, time to pull himself together.

"I'm not shutting you out," he insists, answering her silent plea. "I just don't wanna think about it right now, okay? I just wanna be with you."

He reaches across the gearshift, takes her hand where it sits across her lap, fits their fingers together. She bites her lip to hide her grin. "Okay," she relents.

They drive and drive and drive until there's nothing but open road and farm land, and when the sun starts to fade he pulls over and parks a safe distance from the roadside. They lay on the hood of his Camaro, her head on his chest, and they talk about mindless, menial things while they watch the sun set.

"Are you okay?" she asks quietly when the conversation lulls. He thought for a moment she'd fallen asleep.

"I'm fine," he insists, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. "You don't have to worry about me."

She sits up a little, links her hands on his chest, rests her chin on them so she can look at him. "I always worry about you," she admits. "Especially when Stefan shows up at my door on Thursday night and has a breakdown on my front porch, but I don't hear a word from you."

Damon winces. "He was always closer to Mom than I was," he admits quietly.

"You can't tell me this doesn't hurt you," Elena says, her pretty eyes boring into his searchingly.

"It hurts," he concedes. "It's shitty that she just left us with him, even though she knows how he is, what he's done, what he's capable of. But she chose her side a long time ago, and after she defended him last weekend…" he shakes his head. "I'm just done."

"But aren't you worried about your dad?" she wonders, her eyes betraying her anxiety. "Stefan is."

Jesus, Stefan. He knows they're best friends, but did he really have to burden her with this kind of worry? It's not her burden to bear, and he hates that she feels like it is. "I can handle my dad, and so can Stefan. Please don't worry," he adds quietly, bringing his hand up to rest on her cheek tenderly.

She closes her eyes, lets out a breath. God, she's beautiful. Her compassion and understanding blows him away. He sits up so they're lying side by side, facing each other, and he leans in to kiss her. He loves that he doesn't have to deny those urges anymore, not when they're alone. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulls her body flush with his, and she sighs, soft and content. His tongue tangles with hers, and before he can even think, he's flipped them over so she's lying underneath him. She giggles into his mouth, and he runs his hand down the side of her body. Fuck, she doesn't even know what she does to him, does she?

"Damon," she breathes as his lips trail down the side of her neck. He nips at the skin there, careful not to leave a mark, determined to make her speechless. Apparently, it doesn't work, because she says his name again, more insistently, and he finally looks up to meet her eyes, watches as her nerves bubble to the surface. It's like a bucket of cold water over his head, and he pulls himself away from her.

"We should slow down," he says quietly, to ease her worries.

She smiles at him, obviously relieved, and bites her lip. She nods. "Yeah, we should."

He rolls off of her, sits up straight, wants to roll his eyes at himself. She has this way of making him act like a horny fifteen year old who can't keep his hands to himself. He's better than that; he can be patient. He's not sure what her experience level is, but he's not an asshole and he won't make assumptions. They really should talk about that at some point, he decides, if they ever decide to get serious.

But then, serious would entail that they don't have to sneak around to see each other all the time. Yeah, that might be a better place to start.

"How long do you think we'll have to do this?" he wonders aloud as she rises to sit next to him.

"Do what?" she asks, running her hands through her hair to tame it.

"Sneak around like this," he says.

She sighs, and he doesn't want to push her, but he really wants to hear her answer. "I don't know," she admits quietly.

"Well," he starts. "Do you like me?"

That gets a smile out of her. "Damon," she laughs.

"Okay, that's good, because I like you, too. Do you want to be with me?"

Her eyes widen. Yeah, he realizes, they haven't really had the 'what-are-we' talk, because that goes hand-in-hand with the whole secrecy thing. What a tangled web they've weaved. She swallows, looks away from him, turns back to face him again. "Do _you_ want to be with _me_?" she asks.

He grins crookedly at her. "Only since I was, like, twelve," he confesses.

"Shut up," she laughs, pushing at his shoulder in jest.

"I'm serious," he chuckles. "What, you don't believe I had a crush on you way back when?"

"No, because _I_ had a crush on _you_ way back when," she admits, her cheeks pink, "and I definitely would have known if you liked me back."

Damon rolls his eyes. "I'd like to think I was a little bit smoother than that, even at twelve," he smirks. "So what we're saying is that we've pretty much wasted the last five years being idiots when we've both liked each other this whole time."

She laughs, but she doesn't respond, and then she's quiet for a moment. "You didn't like me freshman year," she remembers, her voice soft and timid.

He pales a little, clears his throat. Shit. "That's not true," he protests, because it's not.

"Do you even remember?" she wonders. "That comment you made to me in the hallway that day?"

Fuck. How could he forget, honestly? He was so hurt and upset that day, and he doesn't even remember why, really. He just knows that he saw Stefan and Elena laughing by her locker, and Damon then watched as she walked right past him, didn't even acknowledge his presence. Sixteen-year-old Damon didn't know how to handle that kind of hurt, that kind of rejection, and he lashed out. _She's just a pathetic little orphan girl_ , he'd said, responding to a classmate who wondered aloud who she was. He knew she'd hear him, knew she'd be hurt; he wanted the satisfaction of knowing he _could_ hurt her, that she cared enough to be hurt.

"Of course I do," he murmurs, turning his body so he can look her square in the eye. "And I know I've said I'm sorry a thousand times, but I've never told you how sorry I am for that. I was hurt, and I was angry, but that doesn't excuse what I said. How I made you feel."

"I cried through third period in the bathroom that day," she admits honestly, and he feels his heart constrict in his chest. _Jesus_. She sighs. "I forgave you a long time ago. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, okay? I just want you to know. I want you to know how much I liked you, how much I missed you. And how much you hurt me."

He takes her hand in his, relieved when she doesn't pull it away from him. "It'll never happen again," he promises, his eyes boring into hers. "Not if I can help it."

She gives him a little half grin, leans her head against his shoulder, lets out a long breath. He wraps his arm around her shoulders to keep her close, wonders how he got so lucky to have a girl like her by his side. He'd be stupid to question it, though, so he's just gonna enjoy this moment, take it in, and wait patiently for their next moment together. He'd wait forever if she asked him to.

 

… … …

 

Stefan knows the last thing Elena wants to hear is more talk about Caroline, but honestly, after his epiphany last week, he has to talk to _someone_. He never got a chance to before his mom left, and then he's been a little preoccupied this weekend, but by Sunday morning, he's practically bursting at the seams. Considering he's running low on people to talk to these days, he doesn't really have much choice.

They're sitting in their usual booth at the Grill on Sunday afternoon, and he's trying to keep it casual, nonchalant, but she knows him too well. "What's going on?" she asks, popping a fry into her mouth, her brow quirked knowingly.

"How do you do that?"

"Stefan," she laughs. "I've known you since we were babies. You're not that hard to figure out."

He lets out a long breath. "I just… realized something last week. An epiphany, if you will."

"Interesting," she hums, resting her arms on the table. "Enlighten me."

"I got into a fight with Caroline," he begins.

She rolls her eyes. "I've heard this story before."

Stefan ignores her, continues the story. "And she said something about how she practically threw herself at me, and I barely blinked. Which is completely ridiculous, because she turned my fucking world upside down." Elena's eyes widen at his curse, and her eyes flit to the family having lunch at a nearby table. He doesn't care. "But then I thought about what happened with Damon… how his perspective on what happened between us was completely different than mine. And I realized, what if that's what's happening here? What if I'm just repeating history?"

She's got a little grin on her lips, her eyes sparkling with pride. "There's two sides to every story," she finishes.

"Yes," Stefan agrees. "I've just always been too selfishly wrapped up in my own things to realize it."

"Well," Elena says carefully. "The fact that you recognize that you're repeating history means you can make it right before it's too late."

"I'm not ready to do that with Damon," he admits. "And I don't even know where to start with Caroline."

Elena shrugs, sips her drink. "Start by being a friend," she suggests. "She was pretty worried about you, after last week. She made me tell her what was going on. I did my best, without giving her too many specifics, but she has her own suspicions."

"I think she was trying to tell me that," he confesses sheepishly. "When I kind of blew up at her."

"God, Stefan," Elena chuckles, shaking her head. "You can be a real piece of work sometimes."

"Hard-headed and stubborn as a mule," he recites. "My mom used to say that."

 _Used to_ , he thinks, shaking off the stab of pain he feels in his chest. She's not dead, he reminds himself. She's just gone.

"What are you gonna do about Rebekah?" Elena asks then, taking a bite of her salad.

Stefan shrugs. "What about Rebekah?" he asks.

Elena rolls her eyes. "Come on, Stefan, you can't be that obtuse. You can't be with her when you feel the way you do about Caroline."

"Why not?" he wonders as Elena gapes at him. "I like her, and Caroline still has Klaus. This doesn't change anything, other than that I know what went wrong now."

"You've got to be kidding me," she deadpans. "How does this not change anything? Don't you know by now that she's hiding with Klaus because of what happened with you?" she insists. "If you make things right, Klaus goes away."

"It's not that simple," Stefan argues.

"Yes it is!" Elena explodes. "It _is_ that simple. When are you both going to realize how stupid you're being, how much time you're wasting?" She lowers her voice. "Do you want to be with her, Stefan?"

"Yes," he admits, bewildered.

"Good. Then stop talking about it and _do something_."

Before he can blink, she's up and out the door, and he's wondering how he managed to screw up that conversation so quickly. She's right - he can be a real piece of work sometimes.

But on some level, he knows she's right. It's really not fair to Rebekah, because he does actually like her – he thinks she's great, and she's been nice to have around through this whole ordeal. It's not like he confides in her or anything, but she's fun to hang out with and he enjoys her company. But he knows that she likes him a lot, wants to be more than just the girl he takes on a date from time to time, and he can't really give that to her. Not when he's practically head over heels for someone else.

He doesn't know what he's gonna do about Caroline, but he thinks he knows a good place to start.

 

… … …

 

Damon remembers back when Elena first started tutoring him, when he would find himself distracted by the urge to kiss her, wondering what it might be like. He wonders how the hell he's expected to concentrate now when he actually knows what it feels like, how easy it would be, how good it would feel.

"Damon," Elena scolds, looking up from her history textbook, her eyes narrowed.

He just smirks at her. "You're cute when you're bossy."

She rolls her eyes, but she can't hide her little grin. "You have calculus homework," she reminds him.

"How the hell am I supposed to focus on _calculus_ when you're sitting next to me?"

"Down, boy," Alaric laughs from behind the stove.

They decided to move their Monday tutoring session to Elena's house tonight. Stefan's out with Rebekah once again, and when Elena told Damon that Alaric was making his famous lasagna for dinner, he basically invited himself over. (She didn't seem to mind.) He kind of likes that they always end up sitting at the breakfast bar, chatting with Alaric, even if it means he can't just lean over and kiss her whenever he wants. He likes Ric. If he weren't also his history teacher, he'd almost say he considers Ric a friend.

When Elena leaves the room to talk to Bonnie on the phone, Damon's once again distracted, but this time by Ric.

"You two seem chummy."

There's a thinly veiled insinuation in that statement, and Damon hears it loud and clear. "I'd say things are going well," he agrees.

"Yeah?" Ric challenges. He leans forward on the counter, looks Damon square in the eye. "How well?"

Damn. Ric can actually be kinda scary when he wants to be. Damon smirks. "The fact that you're asking means you already know."

"I know her side," he says, his expression blank. He's not giving anything away. "I want to know your side."

"My side?" Damon's brow lifts in surprise. He waits for Ric to elaborate, but he just watches Damon carefully, his gaze unwavering. He supposes this is less intimidating than it would be if her father were here. Grayson Gilbert was a kind man, but when it came to his daughters, he could be pretty damn scary. "I'm not messing around with her, Ric."

"Okay."

"I'm serious," he insists, dropping all teasing and levity from his voice. "Elena means more to me than that. This isn't a game to me."

"I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, Damon, but you're not giving me much to go on here."

"I'm falling in love with her," Damon blurts.

Ric reels back, his eyes wide, his brow quirked. The surprise is evident, and Damon's sure his own face must be a mirror image. He honestly can't believe he said that out loud, especially since he's pretty sure he's never even thought the words before, about anyone. But he doesn't feel panicked, and he doesn't feel like he needs to take it back. He feels calm, because it might be the most true statement he's ever made in his life.

He's falling for her, fast. It's been building for a long time - since they were just kids, really - and now that he knows what it's like, what it _could_ be like, he's finding that he doesn't want to be without her. He feels better when she's around. That sounds stupid and cheesy and Damon wants to smack himself across the face but it's true. She makes everything more bearable, and he needs that, especially now.

"I'm falling in love with her," he repeats, quieter, more sure this time. "But how do I know if she feels the same?"

Ric just smirks. "You'll know," he assures him.

"How?" Damon presses. "How am I supposed to even begin to go there when she can't even tell her best friend, my brother, that there's something going on between us? Hell, he doesn't even know she's been tutoring me for the last few months, let alone that there have been… other developments."

"Trust me," Ric insists, "she's struggling with that, too. She's dug herself a pretty deep hole, here, and she has to find a way to dig herself out. I can't do that for her, and neither can you, though it seems like you want to."

"If it means we could just be together without all the drama, then yes," he agrees, "I do."

"There will always be drama, Damon," Ric chuckles. "She's dating her best friend's brother. The three of you will always be intertwined in ways that you'll never be able to untangle. There's bound to be drama. It's how you deal with the drama that can make or break you." The front door opens, closes, and Ric stands up straight, looks Damon in the eye one last time. "Keep that in mind."

Ric's eyes move to the doorway, his grin widening as Jenna enters the room, throwing her keys down on the kitchen counter and draping her jacket over the chair Elena vacated. "It smells amazing in here," she gushes, leaning over the island to kiss her fiancé.

Damon just watches them discretely for a few moments, the two of them completely in their own little world. They chat and laugh and kiss, and they don't care who's watching because they don't have to. He wants that. He wants to walk through the halls with Elena, hold her hand, kiss her cheek. God, even just _talking_ to her without looking over his shoulder would be a welcome change.

He'll wait. He's so damn wrapped around her finger that of course he'll wait. He just wonders how long she'll make him.

 

… … …

 

Elena feels like all she ever does anymore is worry. Worry about Stefan and his obvious confusion over Caroline. Worry about Damon and what he really wants from their relationship. Worry about finally telling Stefan what's been going on with Damon. And of course, worry about Stefan and Damon and their family situation, which seems to get worse by the day.

It doesn't help that she's getting mixed signals from the boys. One day, Stefan's crying on her front porch, telling her how scared he is, how much worse everything's gonna get, and the next thing she knows, Damon's telling her not to worry, that they'll be fine, that everything will be okay. She's more inclined to believe Stefan's version of events, simply because she knows Damon wants to protect her, doesn't want her to take on burdens that aren't hers to bear. Well, she's got news for him: she cares about him, about both of them, so their burdens are her burdens, whether he likes it or not.

And then there's this whole drama with Stefan and Caroline. She constantly feels like she's being pulled in two different directions. They're not asking her to choose sides, and she appreciates that, but it's getting more and more difficult for her to watch the two of them struggle with what they so obviously feel for each other. If she were a less considerate person, she'd just lock them both in a closet together until they either killed each other or jumped each other's bones.

She's standing next to Caroline during the football game, their pom poms by their sides, when she finally decides she's done staying out of it.

"Stefan broke up with Rebekah," she says casually.

Caroline doesn't look at her, but Elena can see her eyes narrow anyway. "Did he," she mutters. "Huh."

"You have any feelings about that?"

"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "We just want different things."

"Oh, for God's sake," Elena groans. "You like each other. It doesn't get more simple than that."

"You said you were staying out of it," Caroline snaps. "So stay out of it."

"I'm also your friend," Elena counters. "And I know you're trying to protect yourself, but you don't need to, Caroline."

Caroline doesn't respond, and Elena knows she's hit the nail on the head. Her confidence has taken a blow this year, between her breakup with Matt and Stefan turning her away, and she's afraid she'll get hurt again. She's afraid to let someone in, let them have the power to break her heart. It's easy for her to hide out with Klaus, where she can keep him at arm's length; it's harder for her to admit that she likes Stefan enough to want more than that. Because that gives him the power, the control, and she's not ready for that.

Elena hates that she's the only one who can see this for what it is. She wants her friends to be happy, wants to help them get there if she can, but she can't if they won't let her.

 

… … …

 

When they lose the final game of the season, Damon's shocked, if he's being honest. It's an irrelevant loss, really; they still won their division, and they're still going to the playoffs with a great chance to get back to the state title game. But it's still embarrassing, especially because the team they lost to had only one win on the season. He doesn't have any excuses. His head wasn't in it, and he could tell Stefan's wasn't either. He doesn't think anyone would blame them, not if people knew what they've gone through in the last two weeks.

The only thing he dreads is his father's reaction.

He notices Stefan across the locker room, takes note of how they're both moving as slow as possible, packing everything into their gym bags with care. They're the last two players there, and he knows they're both feeling the same sense of foreboding dread. Finally, they're both standing at the door, trying to gather up the strength to head home.

"Ready?" Stefan asks reluctantly.

"Guess we better get it over with," Damon responds.

He's thinking he has at least another ten minutes; the time it takes to get home, plus the extra time he can squeeze out by taking the back roads. So he's not entirely prepared when they walk out of the fieldhouse and find their father leaning against the chain-link fence around the field.

"There they are!" Giuseppe yells, his speech slurred. Damon's eyes flash to the bottle of bourbon in his hand, notes that there's maybe one sip left in the bottle. So he's drunk. Fantastic.

"Dad," Damon says, moving toward his father warily. "What are you still doing here?"

"Just came to congratulate you boys on a great season," he smirks, malice flashing in his eyes. "But you don't deserve it, after that shit show out there tonight." His upper lip curls in disgust. "Makes me wonder why I even keep you two around, failures that you are."

"Dad," Stefan pleads. "You're drunk."

"You bet your ass I am!" Giuseppe roars, slamming the empty bottle down on the concrete. Shards of glass ricochet in all directions, and Damon puts his hands up to protect his face. "I had to be to get through that disgrace of a performance!"

"Be quiet," Damon hisses. "You're making a scene."

Giuseppe lunges forward, and before Damon can blink, he's nose to nose with his father. "Don't you speak to me that way, you son of a bitch!"

"Dad, please," Stefan urges, pushing at Giuseppe's shoulder. "Wait until we get home."

Everything happens so quickly that Damon can't really even process it all at once. All he knows is one moment, his father's angry stare is boring into his own, and the next moment, Stefan's on the ground beside him, and Alaric has Giuseppe pinned to the outside wall of the fieldhouse.

"Who the fuck are you?" Giuseppe spits, wrestling against Alaric's hold.

"Someone who made a promise," Alaric says lowly. Damon's brow furrows in confusion, but he doesn't have too much time to dwell on that.

"Get off me, you bastard!" Giuseppe finally pushes Alaric off of him. He smirks, staggering as he drunkenly tries to catch his balance. "Just havin' a chat with my sons, Officer," he sneers, holds his hands up in mock fear. "Don't arrest me." He laughs deliriously.

"Damon," Alaric says calmly. "Stefan. You're staying with us tonight. Don't go to your house, go straight to ours."

Damon just looks at Alaric in bewilderment, catches Stefan's eye, sees the same shock on his brother's face. He hikes his gym bag further up on his shoulder. He wants to say something, but the look Ric is giving him says that now is not the time, so he just gives him a subtle nod. He helps Stefan up off the ground. "You okay?" he asks lowly.

Stefan nods. "Let's get out of here."

Damon turns to Ric. "Ric-"

"Go," Alaric insists sternly. "I'll be right behind you."

"You bastards!" Giuseppe yells angrily as they turn and head for the parking lot. "You're not welcome in my house anymore, you hear me? Don't come back!"

Good riddance, Damon thinks to himself. There's nothing left there for him anyway.

 

… … …


	15. found a place to rest my head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "never let me go" by florence + the machine.

 

… … …

 

By the time Elena finally crawls into bed on Friday night, she's so wired that she can't sleep. It's almost two a.m., and she's exhausted, but she's wide awake. She supposes that's to be expected, after everything that happened tonight.

When Stefan and Damon knocked on her door tonight, she was so worried and shocked that she couldn't really process anything else. Even when Alaric finally got home, told them that he called the Sheriff just to get a sleeping, drunk Giuseppe back to his own house, she was so confused, so overwhelmed that she hardly said two words to anyone. She just watched and listened while Alaric laid down the ground rules with the boys, told them they'd be staying at her house for the foreseeable future.

But now, in the darkness and the quiet of her bedroom, her mind is racing. She's living under the same roof with her best friend and his brother, who happens to be her… boyfriend? Is he even her boyfriend? They haven't quite gotten there yet, but there's something going on between them, and Stefan still doesn't know. How the hell is she supposed to handle this? There haven't been many times where she's been around both of them, when she's had to really pretend that she and Damon don't speak, and now she has to do that on a daily basis?

She hears a quiet knock on her bedroom door, and she sits up in bed as Damon shuts it behind him. "Damon," she says quietly.

"Shhh," he insists, tip-toeing over to sit down next to her. "Hi," he whispers.

"Hi," she whispers back, wraps her arms around his shoulders to pull him close. He wraps her tightly in his arms, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. He takes a deep breath, and she runs her hand down his back to soothe him. She remembers the expression on his face when she opened the door a few hours ago, remembers how vulnerable and nervous and _tired_ he looked. She doesn't remember the last time she saw him that way, if she ever has at all. She sighs, closes her eyes. "Are you okay?"

He pulls away from her, rests his hands on her cheeks, looks into her eyes. "I am now," he nods. He leans in to kiss her, soft but firm at the same time, and she melts into him just a little bit. He pulls away too quickly, rests his forehead on hers. "God, I've wanted to do that since I walked through that door tonight."

She nods, leans in to kiss him one more time. "I was so worried about you."

"I know you were," he whispers, his thumb caressing her cheek gently. "But I'm fine. We're both fine." He lays back against her pillows, pulls her with him so they're lying side by side, facing one another. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd better take the opportunity to be alone with you while I can."

"I couldn't sleep, either," she admits. "I wanted to go check on you, but…"

He nods in understanding. "I know," he assures her. "I know. Listen, this doesn't change anything. If you still don't want Stefan to know…"

She sighs, squeezes her eyes shut. "I don't know what I want anymore," she whispers. "It's going to be so hard, pretending like we hardly know each other." She opens her eyes, searches his own for a moment. She knows she's hurting him, knows that it's really not fair that he has to suffer like this just because she's too afraid to face her own mistakes. "Let me talk to him," she murmurs. "Let me test the waters, and we'll go from there."

He nods again. "Okay," he agrees. He leans in closer, kisses her one more time. He sighs heavily. "I should probably get back to bed, before Ric comes to check on me or something. I don't think he'd be too pleased about me hanging out in your bed with you," he smirks.

She can't help but smile. "Go get some sleep," she tells him, kisses his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses her again, pulls himself away from her. He sits up, looks down at her, reaches over to push a stray hair behind her ear. "We'll figure this out," he promises.

She nods, and then he tip-toes out the door. She knows he's right - they'll figure it out - but she has this sinking feeling like everything's about to come to a head, and she's not sure where the chips will fall when it does. And the worst part is that, whatever happens, she'll only have herself to blame.

 

… … …

 

Waking up in the Gilbert house is strange. Stefan hasn't slept here since he was probably seven or eight, back when he and Elena used to have sleepovers. He never used to think anything of it, the fact that he was a boy and she was a girl, he remembers. She was just Elena, his best friend. She was never anything more than that, but their parents decided at some point that it was better not to chance it. He smirks to himself, wants to laugh. He loves her, but like a sister. He shudders at the idea that anyone ever thought they'd be more than that.

He gets dressed before he trudges down the stairs for breakfast. He normally wouldn't at home, but he's also never lived with a girl before, so he's not sure what the protocol is. He's pretty certain, though, that Ric wouldn't appreciate him walking around the house in his underwear, so he'll just play it safe. But when he gets downstairs, Damon's leaning against the kitchen counter eating a bowl of cereal with no shirt on, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips, and Stefan scowls.

"Really?" he scoffs. "You couldn't even put a shirt on?"

Damon just smirks. "Ric told us to make ourselves at home," he reminds him.

Stefan just rolls his eyes and sits down at the kitchen table, where Ric is serving his patented Saturday breakfast. "You should've waited," he says to his brother, nodding toward his bowl of cereal. "Ric makes the best Saturday breakfast spread you've ever had."

"Please," Damon chuckles. "This is just the appetizer. I'll have plenty of room for Ric's breakfast, don't you worry, little brother."

"Just make sure you leave enough for Elena," Ric warns. "She'll have both your heads if there's no bacon left when she and Jenna get back from the store."

Damon rolls his eyes, turns to his brother. "They went grocery shopping to make sure they have enough food to feed us."

"You don't need to do that," Stefan insists, looking at Ric.

"Trust me," Ric chuckles. "We did. Jenna knows what feeding a teenage boy looks like, and now we have two of them living in our house. We need more than just ice cream and pretzels to sustain you two."

Stefan opens his mouth to argue just as Jenna and Elena come through the front door and into the kitchen, each carrying a few bags. "Oh good, you're up," Jenna says brightly. "Perfect timing. We could use some help with the groceries, if you boys don't mind."

"Of course not," Stefan says hastily.

"I'm not done with my cereal," Damon complains.

"Damon," Stefan says through his teeth. Jesus Christ, his brother can be such a pain in the ass.

"Okay, okay," Damon relents, rolling his eyes. "But if it's soggy when we come back, it's your fault, Stefan."

When they're outside, Stefan pulls Damon around the side of the house, glares at him. "What is wrong with you?"

Damon's brow furrows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You're acting like an ass," Stefan spits. "They're being nice enough to let us stay with them, and you're acting like you haven't just waltzed into their house for the first time in five years."

Damon rolls his eyes. "Listen. It might have been a while for me, but they used to be our second family, Stefan," he reminds him. "They know us. They care about us, or they wouldn't be letting us stay with them. Hell, they went grocery shopping just so they could feed us." He crosses his arms over his chest. "You don't have to tip-toe around like you're inconveniencing them."

"Yeah, well," Stefan narrows his eyes, "The least you can do is show a little bit of remorse. You and I may be on better terms, but I'm not so sure how Elena's gonna feel about this."

"I doubt she'll mind too much," Damon smirks. "I'll be sure to stay out of her way."

Something about the way he says it, the look in his eye… Stefan gets a strange feeling like they're not really on the same page here. Like Damon knows something he doesn't. He shakes it off, because there's really no way he knows anything about Elena that Stefan wouldn't. They don't even speak to one another.

"Just try to be a little more considerate," Stefan hisses as Elena and Jenna come down the front path.

"You two get lost on the way to the car?" Jenna teases.

Elena grabs a few bags from the open trunk of Jenna's SUV, including a particularly full one that she seems to struggle with. Damon moves to take it from her. "Let me help you with that."

She just smirks at him. "I'm not some weak little girl," she laughs. "I can handle it."

"I'm trying to be a gentleman," Damon teases.

And Stefan's confused, watching their interaction, because the way she's speaking to him, laughing with him… it's like nothing ever happened. He knows when Elena is forcing herself to be nice, figured he'd see a lot of it in the coming days, but that's obviously not the case. They almost seem friendly.

He shakes his head. He must be going insane. She would have told him if she'd made peace with Damon. Right?

(Suddenly, he's not so sure.)

Later, when Damon's left to go hang out with Enzo, he finds Elena watching a mindless reality show in the living room, and he plops down next to her.

"Is it weird?" he wonders. "Having people in the house with you other than Jenna and Ric?"

"No," she laughs. "You practically live here, anyway." She clears her throat, and her eyes soften, just a little bit. "Plus, I'm glad you're here. Both of you. I was worried about you, in that big house with your dad, and your mom gone…" she shudders.

He purses his lips, decides to take the opening. "Speaking of Damon," he begins. "You two seem… good."

Elena's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… after everything that's happened between you two… you're just being so nice to him. He doesn't deserve it."

She rolls her eyes. "We're living under the same roof, Stefan. After everything you two have been through, I'm not gonna pile on by dredging up the past."

"He doesn't deserve it," Stefan repeats, narrowing his eyes. "Not after the way he treated you."

"I've seen the way things have changed between you two," Elena counters. "Why would you be upset that I'm being civil with him?"

"You're more than civil," he insists. "It's like you're friends."

"Maybe we are," she blurts. "Why would that be such a bad thing? You two are friends now, right?"

He sits back a little in surprise. What the hell does that mean? "We have a common enemy," he corrects her. "I wouldn't say that makes us _friends_."

Elena rolls her eyes. "You can tell yourself whatever you want, Stefan, but things are changing and you know it." She turns off the television, turns to face him. "For the sake of this arrangement being as comfortable for everyone as possible, I've chosen to put the past behind me and move on. It's not my fault that even after everything that's happened this year, you still can't seem to do the same."

And as she stands up, walks away from him without looking back, he wonders how more than anyone, she can see right through him, every single time.

 

… … …

 

She won't lie: Stefan's questioning today made her nervous. She had a feeling this would happen. She's never been very good at hiding the way she truly feels, and it's even more difficult when she feels the way she does about Damon. They're so far away from where they used to be; now that she knows the truth, now that she understands what happened so long ago, how can she pretend she doesn't?

So she meets Caroline and Bonnie at the Grill for dinner, because if she's ever needed some serious girl talk, it's now.

"I'm sorry," Caroline says, "I know the circumstances aren't great, but you are so lucky."

Elena rolls her eyes. "The Salvatore brothers are not all they're cracked up to be, Caroline," she laughs.

"Says the girl who's best friends with one and fell in love with the other," Caroline smirks.

Elena frowns. Is she in love with Damon? She doesn't think she is right now, but she definitely sees the potential, thinks it could be headed in that direction. Which makes it all the more imperative for her to figure this out before things get messy.

"Speaking of which," Elena continues, ignoring Caroline's wide eyes at her lack of denial, "Stefan's getting suspicious, and I don't know what to do."

"Um." Caroline just stares at her. "Tell him?"

Elena rolls her eyes. "Be serious, Caroline."

"I am," Caroline laughs incredulously. "Come on, Elena, isn't that the obvious solution? Just get it over with, and then you can stop worrying about it all the damn time."

"I don't know why you expected us to say anything different than what we've been telling you for months," Bonnie shrugs.

"And how exactly am I supposed to tell him?" Elena snaps. "'Hey, Stefan, we're having spaghetti for dinner. Oh, and by the way, I've been tutoring your brother and we've kissed a few times.' That should do the trick, right?"

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "You're being dramatic," she says.

"Here's the thing," Caroline says definitively, demanding Elena's attention. "You need to ask yourself what's more important to you. Because the way you've set it up, you're going to have to choose. Stefan or Damon."

Elena blanches, her eyes wide. "It shouldn't have to be that way," she insists.

"But it is," Caroline says. "Because you've made it that way. So now you have to decide. Think of it this way: you either tell Stefan what's going on or you break up with Damon." Elena pales, and Caroline narrows her eyes pointedly. "Do you want to break up with Damon, Elena?"

Elena closes her eyes, lets out a long breath. "No."

"Then you need to tell Stefan what's going on," Caroline finishes. "Because eventually Damon's gonna get tired of sitting around and waiting for you, and then you'll end up losing both of them."

She's right. For once, Elena can see the merit in Caroline's logic. Honestly, it's everything she's been thinking, but could never bring herself to acknowledge before. Now, she has no choice; everything is coming to a head, and it's happening more quickly than she ever thought it would. It won't be long before she'll be at a crossroads, and then she'll have to choose.

Stefan or Damon?

Friendship, or… _love_?

(The question isn't which one she wants more. It's which one she's more afraid to lose.)

 

… … …

 

Caroline wakes up on Sunday morning feeling like she needs to make amends with Stefan. She originally thought she'd just approach him at his locker on Monday, but then she realizes they have the week off for Thanksgiving, and she doesn't know when her next chance to see him will be. She knows he's been through a lot, managed to get most of the story out of Elena, and considering how their last conversation went… well, it's just time to put that behind them. She's been worried about him, and she wants him to know that.

She's glad that he answers the door at the Gilbert house, because she really didn't think through how she would've explained herself to Elena. It's a good thing she doesn't have to.

He steps onto the front porch, closes the door behind him before he speaks. "Hi."

"Hi," she repeats. She smiles. "How are you?"

It feels horribly inadequate and ridiculous, but he just smirks a little. "I'm alright, all things considered."

She smiles sadly. "Elena told me what happened," she informs him. "I kind of forced her."

Stefan sighs, and his shoulders sag just a little bit. He motions to the porch swing. "Wanna sit?"

She nods and they sit down next to each other, and he's so close to her she can feel the heat of his arm next to hers. God, even after everything that's happened, she can't deny the effect he has on her.

"I've been worried about you," she starts. "I know you might not believe that, coming from me, but it's true. I had a feeling something was going on, but when Elena finally told me…"

He shakes his head. "Don't. It's fine."

"It's not fine, Stefan," she breathes out. "It's horrible, and no one should ever have to go through that, especially not with a parent. Two parents." He won't look at her, so she studies his profile instead. "I'm glad you're okay, though."

He seems to accept her words without argument, but he doesn't respond, and she figures he just needs time to process. They sit in silence for a few moments, and she's surprised how comfortable it feels, just sitting next to him, the porch swing rocking back and forth and the breeze tinkling the wind chime hanging by the door.

"I wanted to apologize," Stefan says eventually.

Caroline opens her mouth, closes it, tries to formulate her thoughts before she responds. "So did I."

"No, let me go first," he insists. He draws in a long breath, lets it out slowly. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I realized that you're right. Because I don't know if I ever told you what an effect you had on me, so how could you have known?"

She can feel her jaw hanging open, and she tries to close it, but her facial muscles seem to have decided to stop working. Wonderful.

"You told me you wanted to be with me," he continues, "And honestly, I wanted to be with you, too. More than you know. But I thought you needed time to heal, time to move on before we could start something new. Not to mention that selfishly, I was afraid of being your rebound. Because you already meant more to me than that." He turns to look at her. "And I know it's too late, and that it doesn't change anything because you have Klaus now, but I wish I could take that back."

She can't say there have been many times in her life when she's been stunned into silence. But the fact that he felt something for her, maybe even the same things she felt for him? She doesn't even know where to begin to respond to that. _It's not too late_ , her mind screams at her. _Tell him it's not too late_.

He starts speaking again before she gets the chance. "So I figured maybe we should start over."

"Start over?" Oh, _now_ her mouth decides to start working. She furrows her brow in confusion.

"Yeah," he confirms. "From the beginning. I'd rather be friends with you than nothing at all."

 _Friends_.

She has a flicker of a thought that maybe this is because he thinks that she's _with_ Klaus, when in reality she's not. She doesn't even like the guy half the time, and yeah, they have great sex, but she's not afraid to admit that she's been using him to help her get over Stefan. (It hasn't worked, for the record.) But if this is what he wants, then she has to agree with him: she'd rather be friends with him than nothing at all.

"Friends," she muses.

"Friends," he repeats. "I think that's a pretty good place to start, don't you?"

She doesn't really have a choice, does she? So she smiles at him. "Friends sounds perfect."

 

… … …

 

"Do you hear that?"

Elena looks up from her textbook, furrows her brow in confusion. "What?"

Damon smirks. "The silence."

Elena rolls her eyes, can't help but smile just a little. It's Monday evening, and they're home alone for the first time all weekend. She suggested they take advantage of the time to squeeze in a tutoring session. Damon keeps dropping hints that he wants to take advantage of the time for other things.

"Come on," he whines. "I feel like I haven't been alone with you in so long. Why won't you let me enjoy this?"

"Because," Elena laughs. "If I know you at all, your definition of 'enjoy' is a makeout session on the couch that could easily get us caught if someone comes home."

Damon's eyes sparkle with mischief. "That's a risk I'm willing to take, darlin'."

Elena smirks at him. "Damon."

"Elena." He pulls her textbook out of her hands, and she wants to protest, but she also really wants to kiss him, so. "Come on. Study break."

He scoots in close, leans in so their lips are just a breath away from one another. "Just a short one," she breathes.

And then his hands are in her hair and his lips on her on hers, and it feels like it's been forever since she kissed him like this. She knows the secrecy and the sneaking around must be difficult for him, but she's starting to realize that it's taking a toll on her, too. She wants to be able to do things like this with him without worrying about who might walk through the door.

It's a good thing Damon knows just how to distract her.

She gets lost in the way their lips move together, the way their tongues tangle together, the way he can't seem to decide where to put his hands; tangled in her hair, or pressing into the small of her back, or cradling her face. She feels hot, too hot, and it doesn't take long before she's on her back beneath him, his lips trailing down her neck and his hand sneaking up underneath her shirt. And then, of course, the alarm bells go off in her head, and she inwardly curses herself.

"Damon." She tries to get his attention, but it comes out as more of a gasp than anything. She can feel this escalating out of her control quickly, and she needs to stop him before she panics. " _Damon_."

He rears back like he's been slapped, and he holds himself over her, putting some distance between their bodies. She watches as his eyes search hers, as some of the fog clears and he comes back to himself. He closes them, takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "Sorry," he whispers.

"Don't be," she says quietly, reaching up to trail her fingers over the worry lines on his forehead. She wishes she could explain to him why she hits a wall when they get to a certain point, but she's not even really sure what the answer is. Sure, she's nervous, because he's far more experienced than she is, and because she knows he wants certain things with her that she's not quite ready to give him. But she trusts him, and she feels like maybe that should be enough, wonders why it doesn't seem to be enough for her. "I'm sorry," she repeats back to him.

"No," he insists, "listen." He pulls himself off of her completely, turns to sit facing her like they were before. He takes her hand in his, and she feels the butterflies erupt in her stomach. "I get it. You're not ready. And I know we haven't had that talk yet, that discussion about where our boundaries are, but you don't have to apologize to me for letting me know. I _want_ to know."

"I just…" her cheeks redden just a bit and she wants to roll her eyes at herself. "I know you have certain expectations, and I…"

"Hey." He tips her chin up so that her eyes meet his. "I don't _expect_ anything from you. Okay? That's not… that's not why I'm with you. I…" He seems to stop himself, rethink his approach, backtrack. "I like you a lot," he finishes.

"I like you a lot, too," she teases.

He smiles. "Then that's enough for me."

She doesn't really know what to say to that, so she just smiles back at him, leans in to kiss him sweetly. Then she lays her head on his shoulder, and his arm comes around her shoulders to hold her close to him. She lets out a long breath, and it takes her a minute to collect her thoughts, but she knows they need to acknowledge what's become evident this weekend.

"Stefan's getting suspicious," she murmurs.

He nods against the top of her head. "I know," he agrees.

She opens her mouth to say something else, but there's a knock at the door, and she closes it again, rolls her eyes. "Hold that thought." She kisses his cheek quickly as she stands to go answer the door.

And when she does, she feels her jaw drop open in shock. "Katherine?"

She doesn't know who she expected to see, but her absentee older sister was not even remotely within the realm of possibility.

"Surprise, surprise," Katherine smirks. "Happy Thanksgiving, little sister."

 

… … …


	16. devil's on your shoulder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "silhouette" by aquilo.
> 
> we're getting close to the end, y'all! buckle up!

 … … …

 

It takes a moment or two for Elena to formulate her words into sentences. She guesses that's to be expected when your estranged, wild-child older sibling suddenly shows up after barely acknowledging her family for the past year and a half. Hell, after her high school graduation, Katherine picked up and left and Elena can count on one hand the number of times they've spoken since. And now here they are, face to face, for the first time in far too long. (Or not long enough.)

"What are you doing here?" Elena finally says.

Katherine's smirk stays firmly in place. Elena guesses that her sister is thoroughly enjoying her reaction. "It's Thanksgiving. Can't I come home and surprise my _favorite_ baby sister?"

The mocking tone in her voice makes Elena want to shut the door in her face, and she's almost tempted to do just that, until she hears Damon emerge from the living room behind her.

"Katherine?" he says incredulously.

"Damon Salvatore," Katherine croons, checking him out unabashedly. "I'll be damned. You finally bagged him, didn't you?"

Elena sputters. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Katherine chuckles. "You think I didn't know about your little crush back in the day? Of course, last I remember you two weren't exactly on speaking terms. Did everyone finally bury the hatchet?" She finally pushes her way past Elena into the foyer, her suitcase coming to rest by the stairwell. (Oh, so she's staying a while. Fantastic.) "I mean, you must have made amends if Stefan's okay with the two of you being together," she says, quirking a brow.

Elena opens her mouth to respond, wants to give Katherine an answer that will shut her up, but she doesn't know what to say. She looks to Damon for help, but he looks as lost as she does, and it doesn't take too long for Katherine to catch on.

"So either he's _not_ okay with it, or…" her eyes light up mischievously. "He doesn't know." She laughs delightedly. "Less than two minutes in and I've already got the dirt."

"What the hell do you want, Katherine?" Elena demands.

"Relax," she laughs. "I'm just here for Thanksgiving break. I've got some friends in town, so I'll be out of your hair most of the time. You two can kiss and canoodle all you want, because Lord knows Saint Elena's not gonna give it up anytime soon." She quirks her brow at Damon. "Brace yourself, sweetheart. You'll be waiting for a while. She's saving herself for-"

"Okay," Elena interrupts, pushing Katherine toward the stairs unceremoniously. "You've made your point. You know where your room is."

"Fine," Katherine smirks. "But no hanky panky down here, children. I'll leave the door open so I can hear you."

She pulls her suitcase up the stairs, and Elena turns to Damon. She wants to say something to him, wants to apologize or explain or something, but he knows Katherine just as well as she does. So instead, she decides she needs to have a little chat with her sister.

She bursts into Katherine's bedroom. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, please, like he wasn't going to figure it out sooner or later," Katherine smirks.

"Jesus, Katherine." Elena runs her hand through her hair, pacing. "You can't just barge in here for the first time in God knows how long and stir everything up again."

"Last time I checked, this was my house too, _Elena_ ," Katherine sneers. "I know you were always the favorite, but I used to live here, too, you know."

"Favorite," Elena scoffs. "Okay, Katherine."

"Whatever," Katherine rolls her eyes. "You can't tell me that _I'm_ coming in here and stirring everything up when _you're_ the one keeping a bombshell secret from your best friend. What the hell are _you_ doing?"

Elena pales. "That's none of your business."

"Yeah?" Katherine narrows her eyes. "Well, what if I make it my business?"

"Katherine," Elena pleads. She's suddenly very, very tired. So tired that she doesn't even feel like she has the energy to be angry anymore. "I know you hate me, and you have no reason to do me any favors, but please, _please_ don't tell Stefan. I'm going to, I swear, I just need to find the right time."

"Right time," Katherine mumbles sarcastically. She sighs, rolls her eyes. "Fine," she concedes. "I won't tell Stefan your precious secret." She smirks. "Besides, the knowledge that Little Miss Perfect _finally_ screwed up is enough satisfaction for me."

Elena rolls her eyes. "Well, as long as _you're_ satisfied," Elena mumbles.

She trudges back down the stairs, sits down on the couch, rubs her temples to dispel the splitting headache she knows is coming. She can feel Damon sit down next to her, but she still doesn't know what to say to him, doesn't even know where to start.

"What the hell was that?" Damon wonders aloud.

Elena sighs, leans back against the cushions. "That," she informs him, "was Hurricane Katherine."

 

… … …

 

Stefan comes home on Monday evening after hanging out with Caroline and feels pretty damn good about himself. He thinks this whole friendship thing is gonna work out pretty well. They can talk and laugh and goof off and there's no pressure, no expectations. That's what she has Klaus for, which frees Stefan up to just be… Stefan. He kinda likes that.

He finds Elena and Damon sitting in the living room, side by side. Something doesn't seem right; they're both staring at the TV, but it's off, and Elena's rubbing her temples like she's got a headache. "Hey guys," Stefan ventures, stepping cautiously into the room. "What's going on?"

He watches as Elena sits up, closes her eyes, then levels her gaze at him. "You'll never guess who made an appearance tonight."

His first thought is his father, and he has a split second of panic. It doesn't last long.

"Stefan Salvatore."

He pales. _Oh, shit_.

He turns around to face Katherine where she leans against the doorway, her lips quirked in a smirk. "My, my, look at you," she murmurs.

"Down, girl," Elena warns, standing to turn and face her sister, and Damon does the same, stands up next to his brother.

Katherine ignores her. "The infamous Salvatore brothers," she muses, stepping forward so she's in front of both of them. Her brow quirks up. "You two sure have grown up."

"That's what happens when you leave town for two years," Stefan counters.

Katherine chuckles. "And he's grown a backbone!" He narrows his eyes, watches as she then levels her gaze on Damon. Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "And you," she purrs. "You're even hotter than I remember, Damon. Maybe we should give it another go."

" _Another_ go?" Elena sputters.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Katherine smirks. "That's right, you weren't on speaking terms then. Well, let's just say I gave Damon one hell of a night to remember, didn't I?"

Stefan just rolls his eyes. He's not really surprised, if he's being honest. If you'd asked him a few years ago, he would've said Damon and Katherine would make the perfect match; the wild-child sibling tandem from hell.

"You're disgusting," Elena spits.

Katherine's eyes flash. She hums contemplatively. "Jealous?"

"Of you?" Elena scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"It's too bad I see you for what you really are, Katherine," Damon smirks back at her. "I've got better options."

Katherine rears back in mock hurt. "Oh, Damon, you wound me," she pouts. "Don't act like it wasn't the best night of your life."

"I had nothing to compare it to," he fires back.

Katherine just smirks, looks over at Elena. "You okay over there, little sister? You look a little… _green_."

Elena lunges forward and Damon puts his arm out to hold her back. Stefan moves behind his brother and pulls his friend back. "Hey, she's not worth it, okay? She's not worth it."

Katherine yawns loudly, turning everyone's attention back to her. If there's one thing Katherine Gilbert can do, it's command the attention of a room. "As much as I'd love to stand here and brood over your petty teenage drama, I've got places to be and people to see." She smirks. "Bye now."

As soon as she's out the door, Stefan whirls around to face Elena. "You couldn't have warned me?"

"I was pretty shocked myself," she snaps.

"Okay, calm down," Damon insists, pulling Elena to sit on the sofa, and Stefan sits down next to her. Damon takes the chair across the table. "Katherine can be a lot to handle, but it's just for a few days. We can deal with it."

"Deal with it," Stefan scoffs, smirking at his brother. "Says the one who _hooked up_ with her."

Damon narrows his eyes, and Elena whines. "Can we stop talking about that?" she pleads.

Something about her reaction tugs at Stefan's mind, but he can't fault her for being a little upset, he reasons. If he found out Damon was hooking up with Elena, he'd be pretty upset, too.

"It's late," Damon reasons. "Why don't we all just get some sleep and we can figure out how to dodge her in the morning."

The smile on Elena's face gives Stefan pause. "What?" he wonders.

She shrugs. "Nothing," she says quietly. "It's just nice to have the three of us on the same team again."

And, okay, Stefan can admit he kind of agrees with her. It's not the worst thing in the world to have the three of them together again, like this. It's not just like old times, but he thinks maybe it's getting there, bit by bit. He thinks eventually, somehow, someway, they'll make it back to that place again.

 

… … …

 

It's no wonder Damon can't sleep, he thinks. He hasn't had a chance to talk to Elena since Katherine dropped the bombshell about their secret hookup from so long ago. Is she pissed? Is she done with him? Will she ever trust him again? He doesn't want to give Katherine the satisfaction of ruining what he has going with Elena, but he might not have a choice.

Either way, he needs to know.

She's not sleeping, either, and he can tell by the way she sits up when he tip-toes into her room in the early hours of the morning. He hasn't checked the time, but it can't be more than one, maybe two a.m. "Damon," she whispers.

"Hey," he whispers back tentatively. He sits down on the other side, and she motions for him to lay down. That's a good sign, he thinks. "Are you okay?"

She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, nods. "Just can't sleep."

He smirks. "Me neither." He sobers a bit, scoots a little closer to her. "I'm sorry."

She sighs, flips over so she's lying on her back, studies the ceiling for a moment. Then she turns to him. "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?"

"No," she reasons. "I'm mad at her."

His brow furrows. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Look, you have a history," she begins, and he winces. "That's not news to me. I'm not even surprised that Katherine is part of that history." Okay, ouch, but point taken. "But she threw it in my face, when she _knows_ what's going on between us. And after she promised she wouldn't tell Stefan what's going on, she's basically goading me into blowing the whole thing up myself."

"She's a bitch," Damon says bluntly. "We've always known that."

"I just don't get it," she says quietly. "I don't understand why she hates me so much." She swallows, her eyes shining with emotion, and turns her body to face him again. "When we were little, I used to look up to her," she reveals. "I wanted to be just like her. And she used to play dolls with me, and let me hang out with her and her friends, and she never made me feel like I was too young." She pauses. "I don't know what happened, or when all that changed, but by the time I got to high school, she'd hardly speak to me in the hallways."

Damon shrugs. "She's always been jealous of you," he reminds her.

"But _why_?" Elena wonders. "She was the one with the big group of friends, and the guys always fawning over her, and…" she bites her lip. "And she got you."

"Stop." He rolls his eyes. "She didn't _get_ me. She used me as a pawn to piss you off, just like she did tonight." He moves his hand to trail his fingertips over her cheek, and she closes her eyes. "You two might look alike," he says quietly, "but she's not you. Not even close."

He can see the doubt still lingering in her eyes, so he leans in, kisses her sweetly, rests his forehead on hers. "You're the one that I want," he whispers.

He watches her face as she falls asleep, wonders how she could ever have felt inferior to _Katherine_ , of all people. It doesn't matter how many girls he's had in his bed, or that Katherine was one of them (a hormone-driven lapse in judgment). None of it matters, because Elena is the only girl who's ever had his heart. He doesn't know how much longer he can wait to tell her so.

 

… … …

 

Elena can't say that she's ever dreaded Thanksgiving dinner before, but, well, there's a first time for everything.

The past few days have been surprisingly quiet. She's hung out with Stefan, and briefly with Damon when they get a moment or two alone, but Katherine has made herself scarce. Elena feels as though she's been lured into a false sense of security, because if anyone can blow up a family gathering, it's Katherine Gilbert. And she has plenty of ammunition to do it.

"Stop worrying," Damon whispers.

She looks up from where she's chopping potatoes at the kitchen counter to find him standing next to her, and she forces a smile. "I'm not."

"You almost chopped your finger off just now," he points out with a smirk. "You shouldn't be using a knife if you're not focused."

Elena rolls her eyes, points the knife at him. "Would you like to take over?"

He puts his hands up, backs away. "Don't you point that thing at me."

Elena smirks. "Why? Are you scared?"

"You two better be careful," Katherine sings, traipsing into the room in her five-inch heels. Elena wants to roll her eyes; only Katherine would dress like she's going to a club for Thanksgiving dinner. She lowers her voice conspiratorially, her brow lifted. "Stefan's only in the other room."

Alaric pokes his head in. "How are those potatoes coming, Elena?"

"Just about to put them in the oven to roast," Elena insists with a scowl. "Why does nobody trust me in the kitchen?"

"Do I need to remind you about the burnt-cookie debacle of 2015?" Ric asks, his brow raised teasingly.

"Leave her alone," Anna laughs from the living room, walking into the kitchen with baby Grayson snoozing in her arms. "If you wanna take over baby duty, I can take over the potatoes."

"I think that would be best," Damon smirks, laughing when Elena whacks him in the chest.

She scowls, but it quickly melts into a sweet grin when Anna hands her the baby. "Just for the record, I'm only doing this because I want my Grayson fix," she insists, taking a seat on the couch.

"Whatever you say," Stefan laughs from his seat across the coffee table.

"So, Elena," Katherine says nonchalantly. This can't mean anything good. "What have you been doing all week?"

Elena shrugs. "Just hanging out around the house."

"I mean, Stefan's been with Caroline," Katherine points out, "So you haven't been with your other friends. Have you just been hanging out by yourself all week?" she asks innocently.

Elena narrows her eyes at her sister. "Like I said, I've just been hanging around the house."

Katherine smirks. "And what about you, Damon?" Katherine turns to him, and from her place beside him, Elena watches as his spine straightens just slightly. "You've hardly left the house, either. I'm sure you and Elena have done some… _bonding_ lately."

Damon grits his teeth, takes a deep breath. "Just trying to relax," he says nonchalantly. "Since we have a week off of practice, and all."

"Oh, yes," Katherine nods solemnly. "I know you must be exhausted. Has Elena been helping you relax?"

Damon narrows his eyes. "What exactly do you mean, Katherine?"

Elena's gaze darts to Stefan, who's watching the exchange carefully, his brow furrowed in obvious confusion. Katherine's not veiling her innuendos very well, and Elena knows she's doing it on purpose. She opens her mouth to diffuse the situation, but thankfully, Ric does it for her.

"Would you guys like to join us in the dining room?" he asks. "Dinner's almost ready to be served."

"Sure, _Ric_ ," Katherine answers, her smile blinding.

Damon shoots Elena an unreadable look as he follows Katherine out of the room, and Stefan stays back for a moment, level his gaze at Elena. "What the hell is going on?"

Elena clears her throat, shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Meanwhile, as she hands the baby to Anna to be fed, her heart is pounding in her chest and her palms feel sweaty. What kind of game is Katherine playing, and why does she have to do it at a time like this? Can't she just let it lie? And why does she get the feeling her secret won't last the night?

 

… … …

 

Surprisingly, dinner goes off without a hitch. Elena sits between Stefan and Damon at the table, and at first she can't make herself relax; she keeps looking at Katherine, waiting for her to say something, to begin the interrogation again, until about halfway through dinner, Damon links his fingers with hers under the table. She instantly feels her shoulders relax, and she can't help the little smile that sneaks out.

She's chatting idly with Stefan during dessert when she hears Katherine say her name, whips her head around quickly. "What?"

"I was just saying," she pauses to chew and swallow a bite of her pecan pie, "how you must be so thankful to have both of the Salvatore brothers back in your life this year."

Elena narrows her eyes a little. "Um… yeah. I'm glad they're here with us."

"I mean, since it's been such a long time," Katherine continues. "It's probably been, what? Five years since you've had Damon around like this?" She turns to Jenna innocently. "Five years is about right, isn't it?"

Jenna nods warily, and Elena feels Damon's hand tighten around hers. "Well," Katherine smiles, "looking at the two of you now, I wouldn't know it had been five years. In fact, it seems like you two are even more friendly than you used to be," she quips.

She watches out of the corner of her eye as Stefan's spine straightens just slightly, and Elena feels the panic bubble up inside her. "We're just making the best of the situation," she insists.

"Katherine," Jeremy laughs. "What are you babbling on about?"

Katherine shrugs, sips her wine. "I'm just making conversation."

Stefan turns to her suddenly. "Elena," he begins.

Elena shakes her head. "It's nothing. She's just trying to stir up drama."

"It just seems like maybe there's more going on here than meets the eye," Katherine observes.

Elena stands up, leans across the table, narrows her eyes at Katherine. "What are you even doing here, Katherine?" She explodes. "You've hardly acknowledged us for over a year, and then you show up suddenly wanting to spend Thanksgiving with the family you don't even care about? What's the _real_ reason why you came home?"

Katherine glares at her sister, takes another sip of her wine. "Careful, Elena," she warns. "If you go digging for secrets, you never know what you'll dig up."

"What's _so_ bad that you had to come home?" Elena goads her. "To the one place you hate? Finally decide to give up the ruse of actually studying? What _is_ your major, anyway?"

"I got kicked out, okay?" Katherine yells suddenly, standing up to face her sister. "Is that what you want to hear? I got kicked out of school. I had nowhere else to go." She levels her glare at Elena. "Are you happy now?"

"At least you finally told the truth," Elena says.

"You wanna talk about the truth?" Katherine warns, narrowing her eyes. "Let's talk about how you've been sneaking around with Damon behind Stefan's back for God knows how long."

"What the hell is she talking about?" Stefan demands.

"Nothing," Elena tells him. "She's just stirring up trouble."

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Stefan," Katherine smirks. "You've seen it, too, haven't you? You've wondered why Elena and Damon have been so comfortable together lately. It's because she's been sneaking around with him, right under your nose, and you've been too wrapped up in _Caroline Forbes_ to see it."

Elena whirls around, her eyes wide, as Stefan levels her with his gaze. "Stefan."

She can see it all. The hurt, and the anger, and the betrayal that she's been afraid of for so long. This. _This_ is why she didn't want him to know. But the damage has been done, and as he turns away from her and heads for the front door, she wonders if he'll ever forgive her.

 

… … …


	17. help me to be brave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "devotion" by hurts + kylie minogue.
> 
> sorry for the delay on this chapter! just 'cause I love ya tonight's a two for one - chapter 18 coming later tonight :-)

 

… … …

 

The more she thinks about it, the more she's pretty sure she had it coming. Honestly, what was she thinking? Keeping a secret like that from her best friend? What had he ever done to deserve her lying to him like that? It's not like she meant to hurt him, but that's what ended up happening. She should have just told him what was going on from the beginning. It would have been a lot easier then to just tell him she was tutoring Damon than it will be now to tell him she's in love with Damon.

What a horrible time to have a realization like that: she's in love with him.

"I really screwed up," she tells Jeremy tearfully, as he rubs her back comfortingly. They're sitting on the couch in the living room, where Elena retreated once the crowd in the dining room dispersed. She doesn't know where Katherine went, or Damon, now that she thinks about it. Jenna and Alaric are talking quietly in the kitchen, probably about what a horrible person she is, and Stefan could be anywhere right now. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

"Yeah," Jeremy admits, letting out a long breath. "You definitely could have handled that better."

Elena rolls her eyes. "Thanks for your support."

"Come on, Elena," Jeremy chuckles. "You and I both know this whole situation got way more out of hand than it needed to. Why didn't you just tell Stefan you were tutoring Damon from the beginning?"

"I don't even know anymore," Elena groans. "I was trying to make the whole situation easier for everyone, and instead I just made it a thousand times more difficult than it needed to be. And I might have just lost my best friend in the process."

The tears come then, and Jeremy's eyes soften. "Hey," he says softly, pulls her against him. "He'll come around. You two have a lot of talking to do, but you haven't lost him forever."

"I lied to him," she cries. "I lied to him and I completely stabbed him in the back."

"Stabbed him in the back," Jeremy furrows his brow. "I'm not sure that's entirely accurate."

"I knew how he felt about Damon," she reminds him. "I knew they weren't on good terms and I did it anyway."

"You didn't do it to hurt him, Elena," Jeremy insists. "Could you have handled it better? Yes. But you didn't go into this with the intention of hurting Stefan. I'd hardly say you stabbed him in the back."

"I would."

Elena sits up and looks over her shoulder at her sister. She wipes her tears away angrily. "Did you come down here just to gloat?"

"Oh, please," Katherine rolls her eyes, comes to stand in front of her sister. "I did you a favor and we both know it. There was no way you could keep that secret for too much longer. At least this way you can blame part of it on me."

Elena scoffs. "I'd hardly call that a favor."

"Call it whatever you want," Katherine shrugs. "At least the truth is out there now." She sighs. "And so is mine, which means it's time for me to go."

Elena looks up at her. "Where are you gonna go?"

"Back to school," Katherine says. "I've got friends I can crash with until I figure out what I'm gonna do. Who knows, maybe I'll be back for Christmas this year."

Elena rolls her eyes. "I won't hold my breath."

Katherine pauses for a moment. "Look, Stefan will come around, and Damon's head over heels in love with you, if you can't tell. You'll get everything you want in the end. You always do."

Elena furrows her brow. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're Elena Gilbert," Katherine laughs sardonically. "And unlike your older sister, you _always_ get what you want, without even trying. You screwed up, but at least you're not a pathological bitch like me."

"Katherine," Jeremy scolds.

"Oh, stop, we're all thinking it." She looks at her brother, lets a small smile crack through. "Grayson's beautiful, Jeremy. Congratulations."

Jeremy nods. "Thanks."

"Well, I suppose I've caused enough damage for one family holiday," Katherine sighs. "Time to hit the road. Until next time, fam."

And then she's gone, and Elena looks up at her brother, takes a deep breath. "I guess I should go find Stefan and try to sort this out."

"He'll come around," Jeremy promises. "Don't beat yourself up too much, okay?"

Elena nods, knows that he's probably right. But as she stands and makes her way to the front door, she has a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that it's not gonna be that easy.

 

… … …

 

Stefan doesn't know how he's supposed to even begin to process all this. His first thought is that he's a fucking idiot, because he's had this feeling for months that she's been hiding something from him. He should've known to trust his gut on that one. He had all the clues right there in front of him - how happy she was when he and Damon came back together, how she was suddenly so MIA all the time, how friendly they've been for the past few days… how could he have been so blind?

He wants to talk to her, wants her to explain herself, but he's also terrified that if he does talk to her, he'll say things he doesn't mean, things that he can't take back. He just doesn't understand, doesn't know why any of this is happening, and he needs her help to sort it all out. Kind of ironic that the person responsible for his emotional turmoil is the one person he needs to talk to about it.

"Stefan," Elena breathes, and he looks up from his place on the porch swing just as she closes the door behind her. "I thought you left."

He shrugs. "I didn't know where to go."

She sighs and sits down next to him, and he stands up to put some distance between them. He's too keyed up, too angry to sit so close to her when she's been lying to him for so long.

"Stefan-"

"How long?" he demands.

She opens her mouth to respond, closes it again. "I started tutoring him at the beginning of the year."

Fuck. "Three months." He scoffs. "Who knew you had it in you?"

"Stefan, please-"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" he wonders. "The tutoring I could understand. That's your job."

"I knew how you felt about him," she says timidly, carefully. "I knew you wouldn't like that I was spending time with him, and I just figured, if it's only gonna be a temporary thing… you didn't need to know."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

She blanches, and he regrets it for a split second, but for some reason he feels like her answer is really important. She takes a deep breath, seems to steel herself and lifts her gaze to look him in the eye. "No," she says firmly. "But I am in love with him."

He pales. "What?"

She rolls her eyes. "Come on, Stefan. You had to have known I've always had feelings for him. Those didn't just go away."

"Even after he screwed us over?" he snaps. "Even after he humiliated you in front of everyone?"

"I told you before," she reminds him. "I decided a while ago to put that in the past. He apologized, and we've talked through it."

"Please," Stefan scoffs. "We've talked about this, Elena. A leopard doesn't change its spots."

"You're right," she agrees. " _You_ were the one who thought he changed, when he 'abandoned you' five years ago. You were so convinced that you even managed to convince me. But the Damon I've come to know over the past few months is the same boy I always knew."

"You are so damn naïve." Stefan laughs sardonically. "Were you ever gonna tell me? Before the wedding, maybe?"

Elena rolls her eyes again. "Jesus, Stefan, be reasonable," she snaps. "I was scared."

"Scared of what?" he shouts. "That he might run at the first sign of trouble? Yeah, I would've been scared, too. He's an asshole, Elena."

"I was scared that I would lose you!" Elena counters. "I was afraid that you wouldn't understand, that you would push me away the same way you did to him."

Fuck. She has a point, and that one slices through him like a knife. "That's a low blow," he warns lowly.

"Yeah, well, it's about time someone called you out," she snaps. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Stefan. That was never my intention. I'm sorry that I lied to you, and I'm sorry that you had to find out that way. But I won't apologize for being with Damon, or for falling in love with him."

"It's not real, Elena," Stefan scoffs. "He's probably with you just to piss me off, because that's what he does."

Elena rears back like she's been slapped, and for just a moment, he wants to take it back, but he can't. "Do you even hear yourself?" she says quietly. "Because the only asshole I see around here is _you_."

He doesn't know how long he sits on that porch swing after she goes inside, but it's dark and cold by the time he finally calms down enough to go to bed. And even then, he doesn't really sleep, because her last words to him are ringing in his head and he can't seem to make them shut up. Turns out that even when they're at odds, she still knows exactly how to cut him to the core.

 

… … …

 

Elena's crying when she comes inside, and fuck if it doesn't break his damn heart. He heard the shouting from the front porch, decided he'd sit at the bottom of the stairs and wait for her, just in case she needed someone to talk to. He figures she's gotta be beating herself up, feeling worse than he can even imagine, and he wants to be there for her.

But when she finally comes inside, tears streaming down her cheeks, he stands up to take her in his arms, and she pushes him away. "I just… I need a little space, okay? I promise I'm not…" she chokes out a sob. "I just… I can't right now."

He feels completely useless, and he absolutely hates it. She's obviously hurting, and he wants to take her pain away, or at least help her work through it. But he can't if she won't let him, and if she needs space, he supposes that's what he'll give her.

He lasts exactly five hours before he sneaks into her bedroom to check on her, finds her staring up at her ceiling blankly. He lays down next to her, props himself up on his elbow to look down at her. "Are you okay?"

She takes a deep breath, spares a brief glance at him, nods. "I'm fine," she says.

"Are you sure?" He slides his hand over her arm where it rests on her stomach, threads his fingers together with hers, and he's relieved when she doesn't push him away. "You don't seem okay."

"Yeah, well, Stefan's an asshole," she snaps.

Oh. That's new. "What did he say?"

"Just spouted off about how stupid and naïve I am, how you're only with me to piss him off."

Damon scoffs. "Right."

"It doesn't matter. I tried to apologize, and he didn't want to hear it, so I'm done."

As much as he would love to just damn Stefan to hell and move on with their lives, he knows it's not that simple. He's Damon's brother, and he's Elena's best friend, whether she likes him right now or not. "What do you mean, it doesn't matter? It's Stefan. He's your best friend, Elena. Of course it matters."

"So you're saying I'm being dramatic and I shouldn't be upset because I'm the one who screwed up."

"No," he corrects her. "You have every right to be upset. He had no right to say those things to you. But he pretty much leveled the playing field, didn't he? You lied to him, and he lashed out to hurt you. Can you really blame the guy for not being happy about us being together?"

Elena scowls. "If he was really my friend…"

Damon rolls his eyes. "Don't give me that shit. You and I both know we screwed up. I know you're pissed, but he's not the only one in the wrong here."

She's quiet for a moment, and he knows that she knows that he's right, but he's not expecting her to acknowledge it. She's angry, and she has every right to be. He just doesn't want her to lose sight of the real crux of the issue here, because if she gets too caught up in her anger, they'll never resolve anything.

"I just want both of you," she says quietly, after a drawn out silence. "I want to be with you, but I also want my best friend. Why is that so much to ask for?"

He watches as a tear slips down the side of her face, and God, he hates how much she's hurting. He reaches over to catch the tear with his finger. "You picked a pretty screwed up pair of brothers to ask," he jokes.

Finally, she turns sideways so they're face to face, drapes her arm over his waist to pull him closer. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

Fuck. He knows it's a bad idea, but she's hurting, and she's so damn cute. How the hell is he supposed to resist her? Like, ever?

 

… … …

 

When Caroline's mom asks her to go pick up a few things in town the day after Thanksgiving, she jumps at the opportunity. She loves her extended family, but she's been cooped up in the house with them for the last forty-eight hours non-stop, and she needs a break. A trip into town sounds like as good an excuse as any.

She's walking out of the drug store when she sees a familiar face sitting on a bench in the square, and she smiles as she approaches him. "Hey, you," she says as she takes the seat next to him.

"Hey," he responds quietly, with an obviously forced smile.

Uh oh. Red flag. She studies his profile, dread pooling in her stomach. "Are you okay?" she asks worriedly.

He shakes his head. "Things are pretty weird at home right now," he says vaguely, and she's about to ask him what's going on when he turns to face her. "Did you know?" He swallows. "About Elena and… and Damon?"

Oh. Shit. Now it all makes sense. "Yeah," she admits sheepishly. "I'm… sorry. I didn't-"

"It's okay," Stefan stops her. "It wasn't your responsibility to tell me."

She feels a bit uneasy, decides she needs more details. "Stefan, what happened?"

"It doesn't matter," he insists, sitting back against the bench and shoving his hands in his pockets. "The cat's out of the bag, and apparently she's in love with him." He scoffs. "Can you believe that? Damon. My brother, who goes through women like he goes through socks."

"She's liked him for a long time," she reasons.

"Yeah, well." Stefan rolls his eyes. "Maybe she's not as smart as I thought she was."

"Hey," Caroline scolds, and he winces. "You may be upset, but she's still my friend, and she's still your best friend. Don't be a dick."

"She lied to me," he insists. "For _months_. How am I ever supposed to trust her again?"

"Okay. You need to listen to me for a minute." She turns her body to face him, waits for him to do the same. He doesn't. She decides she doesn't care. "It's not like she did something horrible, like tell the whole school your deepest darkest secrets, and it's not like she cheated on you, because you're not dating." She rolls her eyes. "Not to mention, you and Damon have been on better terms lately. You said so yourself. So why are you so upset that she sees the same things you see?"

"She just forgave him," he tells her. "Just like that. Like nothing ever happened."

"So you're jealous."

"Jealous?" he scoffs. "Of Damon? No."

"No, of Elena," Caroline corrects him. "You're jealous that she was able to let go of it all, and you can't seem to."

"I'm not jealous," he insists, annoyed. "I'm mad that she doesn't seem to understand the magnitude of what happened back then." He sighs, thinks for a moment, rephrases. "I'm mad because if she was able to move on so quickly, if all that drama was really that easily forgiven, then what have I wasted the last five years being so upset about?"

"That's understandable," she assures him.

"And I'm mad because she lied to me," he reminds her. "Why didn't she just tell me what was going on? Tutoring is her job. I wouldn't have liked it, but I don't have any control over who she tutors."

"Trust me," Caroline insists, "we've been telling her that from the beginning."

"I just wish I understood why she did it."

"Look, this hasn't been easy for her, either," Caroline reveals. "If only you could hear most of our conversations for the past three months… she has _agonized_ over this. She didn't want to hurt you, didn't want to lose you. She was terrified of your reaction when you found out. I know you're hurt, and I get it, but just… try to see it from her perspective, okay?"

Before he can respond, his phone vibrates in his pocket, and he rolls his eyes at the caller ID. "What do you want, Damon?" he asks when he answers. She watches as his face changes from annoyance to shock in a split second, and she waits until he hangs up to get the answers to her questions.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"It's my dad," he says, bewildered. "He's been arrested."

 

… … …


	18. all my tears have been used up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "another love" by tom odell.

 … … …

 

In hindsight, walking into school hand-in-hand with Damon on the first day back from Thanksgiving break is probably not the best idea she's ever had. Because all of the sudden, their relationship is the talk of the school, and she gets more whispers and stares than she's ever gotten in her life.

"I feel like I'm a science experiment, or something," she tells Bonnie as she gathers her things for the day at her locker.

"The novelty will wear off," Bonnie assures her. "It's just because it's new. Don't worry, eventually something more gossip-worthy will happen and they'll be right on to the next."

"Hey, guys," Caroline greets, turning to Elena with a sympathetic grin. "You doing okay?"

Elena's momentarily distracted by the fact that Caroline apparently came to school with Stefan, and he just walked right by and went straight to his locker without a word. She didn't see him at breakfast this morning; she wonders if Caroline had something to do with that. Does she really have to worry about their friends taking _sides_ now?

She smiles a little. "I'm getting by," she says honestly.

"Sorry I'm so MIA," Caroline apologizes. "I've just been… well." She grins nervously. "You know."

"It's okay, Caroline," Elena sighs, lets her lips quirk up in a little grin. "I know you're caught in the middle of all this."

"Caroline, you coming?"

Elena turns to Stefan, who steadily avoids her gaze. She tries to ignore the stab of pain in her heart and turns back to Caroline.

"Yeah, sorry." She turns to her friends, smiles apologetically. "I'll see you guys later."

Bonnie watches Elena for a moment after Caroline walks away with Stefan. "He's still not speaking to you?"

Elena lets out a long breath, shakes her head. "It's been almost four days," she says. "I don't know what to do, Bonnie."

She shrugs. "The only thing you can do is give him time," she reasons. "You guys are best friends. You'll work this out eventually, but he needs to process it before he can move on. You just have to give him the time to do it."

Elena closes her eyes, nods, then takes a deep breath, smiles at her friend. "Enough about my drama," she insists. "Tell me what's going on with Enzo."

Bonnie's eyes light up, and as she listens to her friend talk, Elena thinks that it's nice that her friends are happy, even if she's not quite there. It's nice to know that true happiness is still there, within reach. She wonders how long it'll be before she gets to be happy, too.

(She's had a rough couple of days, okay? She's allowed to be dramatic if she wants to be.)

 

… … …

 

Tax evasion. Damon almost has to laugh, because of all the horrible things his father has done, the one that gets him thrown in jail is _tax evasion_. Ten years' worth of tax evasion and fraud, to be exact. He's not sure how he got caught, and to be honest, he's not sure he cares. Damon's eighteen, and Stefan's not too far behind him. They don't really need anyone to take care of them at this point, and Damon is seriously considering forgoing the option to bail his father out.

The only problem is that this isn't a decision he can make alone, and his brother still won't speak to him.

"He knows what's going on, but he doesn't seem to care," Damon tells Enzo as they get changed for football practice Monday afternoon. "I get why he doesn't want anything to do with me, but this is kind of important."

"So just make the decision for yourself," Enzo shrugs. "Wouldn't you rather have him in jail than risk him coming after you again? I'm sure Stefan would agree with that."

"It's not like he doesn't deserve to be there," Damon reasons. "If not for what he's done to us, then at least for what they brought him in for."

"Exactly," Enzo agrees. "So what's the problem? Tell your dad to go to hell and leave the bastard in the dust."

"It's more about the principle at this point," Damon tells him. "Just once, I'd like for Stefan to put his damn pride aside and be a man about it. He has every right to be angry with me, but this is bigger than all that."

Enzo rolls his eyes as they start to make their way out to the field. "If you ask me, Stefan's got nothing to do with you and Elena anyway. He needs to suck it up and get over it."

"Speaking of Elena," Damon mutters. He watches as she sets down her bag on the grass, bends over to pull her hair into a ponytail for cheerleading practice. He nudges Enzo with his elbow. "I'll catch up with you."

He jogs over to his girl, reveling in the way she smiles when she sees him. "Hey, you."

"Hey back." She grins, checks him out. "I think that uniform is my favorite look of yours."

"Yeah?" he smirks, returns the favor. "I could say the same thing about you," he murmurs.

Her cheeks turn pink, and God, he loves that it's so easy to get a reaction out of her. "I've gotta get to practice," she tells him, turning away.

"Hey, wait." He grabs her waist, pulls her into him. He tries to ignore the way her eyes dart around, like she's afraid someone might see, and he's relieved that she doesn't push him away. "You okay?"

She bites her lip. "It's been a long day," she admits.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Let's go out tonight."

"Out?" She lifts one brow. "Mr. Salvatore, are you asking me on a _date_?"

He nods, grinning. "A real date, where we don't have to go to the next town over."

Her smile fades a little. "Damon-"

"I know this sucks," he interrupts her. "Trust me, it's not that fun for me, either. But we don't have to hide anymore, Elena. I don't want to hide with you anymore."

"We don't need to flaunt it all over the place, either," she argues.

"Speak for yourself," he smirks. "You obviously don't see the way the vultures in this place look at you."

"Damon!" she laughs. "They do not."

"They do, but they won't once I make it clear that you're _mine_." He smiles, and she blushes, bites her lip. "What do you say? An inaugural trip to the Grill?" She ducks her head a little, and he kisses her forehead. "We can even study if it makes you feel better."

She rolls her eyes, but she nods. "Okay," she concedes, and his grin must be infectious, because it makes her grin, too. "I'll meet you in the tutoring center after practice."

Before she can stop him, or protest, he swoops into kiss her, lets it linger for a few seconds more than he probably should. He smirks. "I've been waiting to do that for so long."

She rolls her eyes, but she can't wipe the smile off her face, and he feels like he's standing on top of the world. "You're quite charming when you want to be," she laughs.

"You haven't even seen my A-game," he smirks.

 

… … …

 

It's Monday afternoon when Stefan decides he needs some serious advice. Caroline's great, but she's too good at seeing both sides of the equation. She's too close to everything, and she's a perfect sounding board, but he needs more, and she can't give it to him.

There's only one other person he can think to go to.

"Stefan." Alaric looks up from his computer in surprise as Stefan enters the classroom after school, sits down on a desk across from him. "Haven't seen you in a while. It would be nice if you would check in at home every once in a while, just so we know you're not dead."

Stefan's lip quirks up in a sheepish half grin. "Sorry," he says. " _Home_ isn't exactly the most comfortable place for me to be these days."

"Guess I can't blame you for that."

"I just don't know what to do," he admits. "I have a right to be angry, don't I?"

"Sure," Alaric agrees. "Sure you do. We all knew this was wrong from the get-go."

Stefan scoffs. "I can't believe _all of you_ knew. Everyone knew except me."

"Trust me," Alaric insists, "if I'd known she was going to drag it out this long, I would have said something."

"I still don't get it," Stefan sighs. "I just don't understand."

Alaric leans forward, rests his elbows on his desk. "Look. I don't claim to understand the female mind. I never have," he concedes. "But I do know Elena, and believe me when I say she never wanted to hurt you. I know that doesn't make a difference, because it happened anyway, but I think that should carry some weight. Did she handle the situation wrong? Absolutely. But, Stefan," he says, commanding Stefan's attention, "you have a habit of shutting people out who you believe have wronged you, whether it's justified or not."

"I know," Stefan protests, "but-"

Alaric puts his hand up. "If you know that about yourself, can you understand why Elena would be hesitant to tell you something like that? Why she might be scared that she might lose you?"

"I guess so," Stefan mumbles. "I just don't get why she thinks that Damon is worth the trouble."

"He's your brother," Alaric reminds him. "And no matter how much you dislike him, I know that you two had started to mend those fences before all this happened. You know he has redeeming qualities, despite his arrogant exterior."

"She's in love with him." Stefan rolls his eyes. "She's an idiot if she thinks he feels the same way."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Alaric tells him. "But that's not my place to say. I will say that the Damon who's been hanging around for the last few months is not the monster you make him out to be. You're so afraid of what you might find that you refuse to see him for who he truly is."

"He's not worth it," Stefan tries.

"Do you really think Elena would put her friendship with you on the line for someone who _isn't_ worth it?"

Now that's something to think about. He would like to think his friendship with Elena is as important to her as it is to him. They've been there for each other through _everything_ , and she's told him more than once that she wouldn't have made it through her parents' death if it hadn't been for him. Despite how she knows Stefan feels about Damon, she obviously sees something in him, something that Stefan doesn't (can't? won't?) see. The more Stefan thinks about it, the more he thinks that maybe whatever is going on between Elena and Damon has nothing to do with him. And maybe that's the part that sucks the most - that Elena's found someone else she can rely on the way she used to rely on him.

For whatever reason, she decided that what she had with Damon was worth the strain it might put on her friendship with Stefan. The question, he supposes, is whether he's willing to set aside his feelings for his brother to let her be happy. He wishes that question wasn't such a loaded one to answer.

 

… … …

 

Caroline is acutely aware that she has put almost her entire life on hold to be there for Stefan. For the last five days, she's been at his beck and call. She's been his escape when he needs to get out of the house, she's been his sounding board when he needs to vent. Hell, she's practically compromised her friendship with Elena to be there for him. It's not like he really has anyone else, she reasons, especially since his brother and his best friend are the ones who betrayed him. (His words, not hers.) It's hard, though, when she's seen Elena's side for the last three months, to suddenly be on the opposing team. (Is that really what it's come to?)

It's not until Klaus approaches her in the hallway Tuesday morning that she realizes she's been neglecting him, too.

"Nice to see you're alive and well," he says coldly, leaning against the locker next to hers as she gathers her things for the day. "I trust you had a restful break?"

"I did," she nods. "And yours?"

He scoffs. "Let's skip the mundane pleasantries, shall we?" He narrows his eyes at her. "I see you've been spending ample time with Stefan these days."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "What I do or don't do with Stefan is none of your business, Klaus. We're not dating."

"No," he concedes. "We're not. You've made that perfectly clear, time and time again. I suppose it's my mistake for assuming eventually you'd come to your senses."

And, okay, now she feels bad, because she should have seen this coming. It's been developing for a while now, she knows. Klaus has always been more invested in her than she has in him, and while it was a convenient arrangement at first - one that he never seemed to mind - she knows that at some point, she has to be up front with him about what she wants. _Who_ she wants.

"I know you care about me, Klaus," she acknowledges, winces as she feels a twinge of guilt. "And I know I've been horrible to you in return, and I'm sorry about that. But Stefan needs me right now. I'm all he has, and I won't abandon him."

"Then you'll need to choose," Klaus insists. "Because I won't wait around for you anymore, Caroline. If you want to be with him, then fine. But you can't have us both."

There's a side of her - a tiny, negligible sliver of her heart - that wants to pick him, because being with Klaus is the easiest thing she's done in a really long time. For her, there's no attachment; no drama, no feelings. She doesn't have to worry about getting her heart broken. But she supposes that now it's not her own heart she should be worried about.

Caroline's eyes soften a little. "Klaus…"

He holds his hand up to stop her. "It's Stefan," he finishes for her. "It'll always be Stefan. I'm well aware."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," he corrects her with a smirk. "But you will be."

Maybe so, she thinks as he stalks off down the hallway, because it seems that all Stefan wants from her these days is her friendship. But it's like he said - she'd rather be friends with him than nothing at all. So if a friend is what he needs right now, then that's what she'll give him. She just hopes that, one day, he'll give her the chance to be more than that.

 

… … …

 

By Wednesday afternoon, Elena feels like she's desperate, because it's been almost a week since Stefan has spoken to her. She knows she screwed up, okay? She can admit when she's wrong, and she apologized to him. Maybe it was marred a little by her anger toward him, but she feels like she was justified in feeling that way, considering the things he said to her that night. But no matter what's going on between them now, no matter how hurt or angry or betrayed he must be feeling, he's still her best friend. For as long as she can remember, they've been inseparable, and now it feels like she's been completely cast aside. Walking through the halls without even speaking to him… it's like she's missing a limb or something.

She's thankful that football practice runs later than cheerleading, because as grateful as she is that Damon and Stefan have a place to stay, she's feeling a bit suffocated by the tension in her house these days. It's not wrong for her to want a little peace and quiet for a couple of hours, is it?

She quickly realizes, however, that peace and quiet is not an option, because Alaric is sitting at the breakfast bar when she comes through the door.

"Hi," he greets. "How was practice?"

She shrugs, takes the stool next to him. She plucks a grape from the bowl in front of him. "Same as always."

Alaric hums. "You doing okay?"

She levels her gaze at him, narrows her eyes. "What do you think?"

He chuckles. "I think you're drowning in a mixture of guilt and confusion."

"It's really annoying, how well you know me by now."

"Stefan came to see me yesterday," he reveals, and her eyes widen in surprise. "Came to my classroom right after school looking for advice."

"He still won't speak to me," Elena tells him.

"He's just as confused as you are," Alaric informs her. "He's really struggling with the fact that you seem to find redeemable qualities in Damon that he can't see."

Elena rolls her eyes. "He sees all the same things I see," she insists. "He just doesn't want to admit it, because of this stupid, baseless feud they've had going for the last five years."

Alaric tilts his head in contemplation. "Five years is a long period of time to unravel," he muses. "His resentment toward Damon was much more deep-seeded than yours was. Maybe it's just taking him a little extra time to piece everything together."

Elena sighs, buries her face in her arms on the counter. "I apologized," she mumbles. "Multiple times. I don't know what more he wants from me."

Alaric's hand comes to rest on her shoulder, and she turns her head to face him, rests her temple on her arms. "He'll come around," he says confidently. "He's already starting to crack. I can see it. It's only a matter of time."

She thought their friendship was strong enough to withstand anything. Now, she wonders if it's even strong enough to last until he's taken all the time he needs.

 

… … …

 

He didn't tell anyone he was coming here. Not Elena, not Enzo, not Alaric, not even Stefan. No one else would understand his need to see his father, to come face to face with him and say all the things he needs to say. Damon didn't want to give anyone the opportunity to talk him out of it.

This is something he needs to do for himself.

His father looks stoically disheveled, not unlike the last time Damon saw him. It's strange, because it feels like it's been forever since they've been face to face, when it's really only been a week and a half. He'll admit that he's a little apprehensive, especially considering what happened that last time, but he takes comfort in the fact that there's a thick sheet of bulletproof glass separating them and guards who can restrain his father if they need to.

"Damon," Giuseppe smirks, speaking through the phone. "I knew you'd come eventually."

"We have some unfinished business," Damon agrees.

"Ah, you know your old man only wants what's best for you," Giuseppe says innocently as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Look," Damon begins. "I'm not here to bail you out."

It wasn't a hard choice to make, if he's being honest. The last thing he wants is for his father to be able to terrorize he and his brother whenever he pleases. Then he met with Giuseppe's lawyer - _at least twenty years, maybe more,_ he'd said - and got all the confirmation he needed.

Giuseppe's expression quickly turns to rage. "You ungrateful son of a bitch," he seethes lowly.

"You deserve to be here, Dad," he informs him. "There are things you've done that you can't take back. You've pushed away everyone who ever cared about you. You drove your wife to leave without even saying goodbye. And you assaulted both of your sons."

His father slams his closed fist against the glass, and Damon just blinks in response. "Everything I ever did," he says lowly, his body practically vibrating with rage, "was for your own good. It made you into the man you are today."

Damon sucks in a deep breath, steadies himself. He looks his father square in the eye. "Maybe so," he concedes, "because you showed me exactly what kind of man I _don't_ want to be. I'm nothing like you, Dad, and I never will be."

"You're right," Giuseppe smirks maliciously. "You'll never be as good as I was, not at football, not at anything. You're _nothing_ , Damon. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," Damon says. "But I'm not listening anymore."

He hangs up the phone, watches as his father stands up, slams his hands down on the table. He can hear Giuseppe shouting unintelligibly through the glass, but he's already walking away, and he won't look back.

 

… … …


	19. don't know where you end and I begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "chemical" by kerli.
> 
> last chapter before the epilogue! can you believe we're here already?!

 … … …

 

Damon can't decide which is worse: the fact that he's no longer living under the same roof as his girlfriend, or the fact that he doesn't have anyone to use as a buffer between he and his brother anymore.

Now that Giuseppe's out of the picture for the foreseeable future, he and Stefan are moving back into their house, which would be an occasion to celebrate if, you know, his brother would even _look_ in his direction. His petty avoidance is really starting to grate on Damon's nerves, if he's being honest, and he has no idea where to go from here. He feels like he's tried everything, to no avail. So he decides he's done playing nice.

"You know, a simple _thank you_ wouldn't kill you," he smirks, leaning on the door frame to Stefan's room as his brother unpacks his bags.

Stefan scoffs. "For what, exactly?" He slams a dresser drawer shut and turns to face Damon. "For manipulating my best friend right out from under my nose?"

Oh. Apparently, they're doing this now. "Manipulating," Damon laughs. "That's a good one. You really think I had any influence on the situation?"

"Of course you did," Stefan insists. "She wouldn't have lied to me otherwise."

"For fuck's sake, Stefan, _get over yourself_." Damon pushes off the door frame and approaches his brother. "You think I wanted to be the dirty little secret she snuck around with because she was too afraid to hurt poor Stefan's little feelings?" He narrows his eyes. "Trust me, I tried to convince her to tell you. I could've cared less about your precious feelings."

"So you admit it," Stefan smirks. "You don't care about her at all. You just want to parade her around like some sort of trophy, just to get under my skin."

"Jesus, Stefan," Damon yells, throws his hands up in exasperation. "When are you going to stop twisting everyone's intentions to fit what _you_ want them to be? Not everything is about you, asshole."

"What other reason could you possibly have?" Stefan insists, raising his voice to match Damon's volume.

"Because I'm in love with her!"

Stefan just blinks at him for a moment, lips parted in surprise, and Damon closes his eyes, tries to regulate his breathing. God, that's _twice_ now he's blurted that out, and he hasn't even told _her_ how he feels yet. It scares the shit out of him, honestly, feeling this way about someone, but he knows she's more than worth it. He's been struggling with when to tell her - _how_ to tell her - but now he thinks that even if she doesn't feel the same way, she deserves to know how much she means to him.

"Well," Stefan says quietly after a moment, swallowing loudly. "I hope you two are very happy together."

So that's the end of that, and, okay, the look in his brother's eyes kind of breaks Damon's heart a little bit. He thinks he just lost his brother and his best friend, all in one fell swoop. He's gotta find a way to convince him that he can have them both, if he really wants them.

"Talk to Elena," Damon pleads. "Hear her out. This doesn't have to be the end, Stefan. You don't have to shut both of us out."

He lets another moment of silence go by before he backs out of his brother's room, wondering how the hell the three of them are going to untangle the mess they've made and get back to some semblance of normal. _Normal_. He shakes his head. He doesn't even know what normal _is_ anymore.

 

… … …

 

It's been over a week since the Thanksgiving fiasco, and Caroline's had just about enough of this choosing sides business. She wouldn't even say she's choosing a side, per se - she can see both sides of the issue, which is part of the problem. But Stefan confided in her when he needed someone, and it's clear to her that right now, she's pretty much all he's got.

She won't 'abandon' him, as he likes to say. But she won't make it easy on him, either.

"What are you doing here?" Stefan asks when he opens the door to find her on his front porch.

"Nice to see you, too," she laughs, pushing past him and into the house.

She's always wondered what the inside of the Salvatore mansion looks like. Of all the popularity Damon has amassed over the years, he's never thrown a party here - which she now knows is due to their father's iron fist - and the curiosity has plagued her since the first time she saw it from the street. It's exactly what she thought it'd be, really. Sprawling floor space, ornate décor, dark wood _everything_. It looks like it's hardly been touched since the 1860s, when it was built.

"Are you happy to be home?" she asks him, looking up to the vaulted ceiling in admiration.

She sees Stefan shrug out of the corner of her eye. "At least I only have to see Damon instead of him _and_ Elena."

"Funny you should mention them." She lowers her gaze to his. "That's exactly why I'm here."

He rolls his eyes. "And here I thought you were here to hang out with me. My mistake."

"Oh, come on, Stefan," she sighs. "You and I both know that you're miserable. Isn't it about time you did something about it?"

"I don't have anything to apologize for," he insists stubbornly.

"And yet, both Elena and Damon have apologized to you, and you still can't seem to let it go," she counters. "And don't give me that bullshit. You're not a victim, Stefan. You've been a dick to both of them lately."

"It's not as if they don't deserve it."

"Listen to me," she snaps. "You're at a crossroads, here. You have a choice to make. You can either shut out everyone you care about - including me - or you can suck it up and let them try to make things right. They _want_ to make things right, Stefan."

He's quiet for a moment, sits down on the couch in the living room, scrubs his hands over his face. She watches him as the wheels turn in his head, and she knows that he knows that she's right. She cares about him - she might even more than care about him, if she's honest with herself - but she can't do this anymore. She can't sit by and watch while he just lets the world crumble around him and waits for everyone else to build it back up. He's the first to complain when things don't go his way, and the last to try to do something to fix it. She thinks it's about time that changed.

"Where do I even start?" he asks quietly. "How are we ever going to get back to the way things were?"

"We might not get back there," she admits, sitting down next to him, running her hand over his back. "But things could be better than they were. You just have to _try_."

 

... … …

 

It's Monday afternoon before he gathers up the nerve to set foot on her front porch. It's been over a week since they've spoken at all, which, if he thinks about it, is probably the longest they've ever gone without speaking. It sucks, and he hates it, and if she's ready to talk, then he's ready to listen.

"Stefan," she says in surprise when she opens the front door. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really," he admits quietly.

Her eyes soften, and he wonders at how she can still be so compassionate, even after everything he said to her. Because, yeah, when he looks back on it, he can admit that he's been horrible to her. He said all sorts of things he didn't mean, and then he completely shut her out. He did exactly what she was afraid he would do, validated all her reasons for lying to him in the first place. And when he thinks about it that way, he can't really blame her, can he?

"What's going on?" she wonders as they stand in her living room.

He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't have any idea where to start, but he hates this space between them, so he does the only thing he can really think to do in that moment. He's across the room before he can stop himself and wraps his arms around her, and relief floods through him when she readily reciprocates. It's not a lost cause, he realizes. "I'm so sorry," he says.

"Oh, Stefan," she chokes out. She breathes in a shaky breath. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

He stands there for a moment, just holding her close to him. He's realized, over the past couple of days, that her friendship is more important to him than anything. It always has been. He just forgot for a little while, was so blinded by his anger and hurt that he couldn't fathom why he ever wanted her in his life to begin with. But he wants to make things right, wants to get their friendship back to how it used to be. He thinks this is a good place to start.

"I get it," he admits, when they're sitting on the couch a few minutes later. "I get why you were afraid to tell me, why you were afraid of what I might do. I did exactly what you thought I would."

"That's not an excuse," she counters. "There's no excuse for lying to you the way I did. I should have told you what was going on from the beginning."

"Yes, you should've," he acknowledges. "But Thanksgiving would have been far less exciting if you had." She chokes out a laugh, and he smiles. "I'm sorry for the things I said that night. I was hurt, and I was angry, but you still didn't deserve that."

"No, I didn't," she agrees. "But you had a right to be angry and hurt."

"Is Damon really worth it?" he wonders. "All the strain this has put on our friendship. Do you really think he's worth it?"

She hesitates, then nods. "I'm in love with him," she reminds him.

He winces. "So you've said."

"He's your brother," Elena insists. "You've seen the way things changed between the two of you, before all this went down. Do you really still believe he's the horrible person you thought he was?"

"No," he concedes. "And that really sucks, because if it's like you said and he never really was that person, then I wasted five years of my life being angry for no reason."

"He gets it," she reveals. "He was hurt back then, but he understands. Your dad pushed you apart, kept you far enough away from each other that you never got a chance to flesh things out. Now that he's gone, don't you think you should at least take that chance?"

He knows she's right. He also knows that as hard as this conversation was to start, that one will be even more difficult.

 

… … …

 

The first day without football practice is always a strange one for Damon. It's even more strange this year, because he's officially done with high school football.

It ended with more of a dull _thud_ than a resounding _bang_. They lost their first playoff game last Friday. They played well, but it wasn't enough; they didn't get their asses kicked, but the other team was definitely better than they were. Honestly, Damon thought that no matter how it ended, he'd be devastated, lost without the one thing that has defined his life for the last six years. But without his dad here to make it a bigger deal than it needs to be, he just feels… free. He doesn't know if he even wants to play football in college. Sure, he's a good quarterback, and he's been recruited by some good schools. But a professional career is likely not in his future, and he thinks he needs to start focusing on his real career options.

He considered going over to Elena's after school to start studying for finals - thanks to her, his grades got him through the season, but now that he's not 100% sure about a scholarship, he'll need to continue to improve - but she sent him a quick text a few hours ago that Stefan was over. He hopes that means what he thinks it means, for her sake, but he's not holding his breath.

He's mindlessly watching ESPN when he hears his brother come through the front door. He expects Stefan to bypass him completely and make his way upstairs, just like he has been all weekend. So he's surprised when he looks up and finds his brother standing in the doorway.

"Waiting for them to show your career highlight reel?" he smirks.

Damon cracks a smirk in return. "It's the end of an era," he jokes. "They should honor it somehow."

Stefan slowly crosses the room and takes a seat across the coffee table, and Damon mutes the television. "Look," Stefan starts, letting out a long breath. "I owe you an apology."

Damon's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You do?"

"I do," Stefan nods. "For shutting you out for the last five years." Damon tries to keep his mouth from falling open and doesn't respond, just lets his brother work through whatever it is he wants to say. "I think you'd agree that it's been mutual, but I feel like I should apologize for the part I played in everything. It seems stupid when I even think about it. I mean," he scoffs, "you didn't join the football team to hurt me, and it wasn't your fault Dad decided he liked you better."

"Yeah, but I could have tried harder to plead my case," Damon counters. "I didn't have to let Dad tear us apart the way he did."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Stefan insists, shakes his head. "I just want to put all of this behind us. I know we're not gonna be best friends anytime soon, but considering what's going on with Dad, it's probably better that we stick together through all this."

Damon nods, decides they just need to get it all out in the open. "I'm in love with Elena."

Stefan winces. "So you've told me."

"I'm not breaking up with her just because it makes you uncomfortable," Damon says definitively.

"I'd be disappointed if you did," Stefan agrees. "And I'm not gonna be a hundred percent okay with it right off the bat."

"I'd be disappointed if you were," Damon smirks. "Look, I know I screwed up, okay? And I know the past few years have been pretty screwed up between us. But now that Dad's gone, maybe we should just… start fresh."

Stefan sighs. "Truce?"

His hand hovers in the air over the coffee table, and Damon reaches over, grasps it with his own.

"Truce."

 

… … …

 

He feels… better. Lighter, somehow. He didn't realize how much his own stubbornness had been weighing him down until he finally let it all go. After some serious soul searching, he was able to admit to himself that most of this disaster was his own making, and in order to let everyone else off the hook, he needed to let himself off the hook first. Once he put his own pride aside, he was able to accept that his relationships with his brother and his best friend are far more important than being right. Is he still hurt? Sure. Does the betrayal still sting? Of course. But whatever is going on between Damon and Elena has nothing to do with him, and it's time he took himself out of the equation, for all their sakes.

There's just one more person he needs to apologize to.

"Stefan," she says in surprise when she looks up from where she's studying on her bed to find him in her doorway. She smiles. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mom let me in," he clarifies, and when she gestures toward the bed, he takes a seat on the edge. She's sitting cross-legged, and the outside of his leg brushes her knee as he sits down. He has to work seriously hard to hide the jolt that simple touch sends through his body.

"Is everything okay?" she wonders, her eyes shining with curiosity.

"I just wanted to thank you," he starts. "For giving me a kick in the ass when I needed it the most. I talked to Elena and Damon today."

She grins. "And?"

"And I think everything's gonna be okay," he smiles.

She squeals, throws her arms around his neck, and he grabs her around the waist to steady himself, laughing. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Yeah, well," he pulls back, keeping her close to him, and pushes the hair away from her face gently. "I don't know if I could have done it without you, even though I've been an ass. So I'm sorry."

She sucks in an audible breath. "Stefan," she murmurs.

"I'm sorry, because I've been an idiot," he admits. "I've been trying to pretend that I could be just friends with you, that I could ignore everything that I feel for you, but I just don't think that I can anymore." He looks away from her. "And I know you've got Klaus, and you're happy with the way things are, but-"

"I broke up with Klaus."

He meets her eyes, blinks in surprise. "You did?" She nods. "Why?"

"Why do you think?" she smiles sweetly.

His lips are on hers before he can think it through, but the way she reciprocates, he doesn't think she minds. He's wasted so much time; he doesn't want to waste anymore.

 

… … …

 

As Mondays go, this one is shaping up to be pretty great.

She got her best friend back. She was so shocked when he showed up at her doorstep. She thought for sure that she would have to be the one to get them back on track, but he surprised her by apologizing and admitting that he understood where she was coming from. She was reminded of all the reasons why he's her best friend, and why he always _will_ be her best friend.

And then, Damon surprised her with her favorite Chinese takeout and a movie night - her choice, of course - in the media room at the Salvatore mansion.

She honestly can't remember the last time she was here. After things went south between her, Stefan, and Damon, she rarely set foot here, especially since their father was never particularly fond of her. Stefan usually just came over to her place to escape his own. Now, without Giuseppe here, the atmosphere seems lighter, more inviting. The fact that Damon invited her over here feels symbolic somehow - like he's officially inviting her into his life, all the way. It feels pretty damn good.

"I take it things went well with Stefan today?" he asks as he feeds her a bite of fried rice. They're sitting on the loveseat in the media room with some old-school chick flick playing in the background while they eat and talk.

She nods, swallows. "And you said you talked to him, too?" she asks.

"All's well that ends well," he confirms. "I don't think we'll be having a brotherly heart-to-heart anytime soon, but we're putting the past behind us and starting new."

She swallows a bite of her sesame chicken. "Did he say anything about us?" she wonders apprehensively.

He shrugs. "He said it would take a while for him to be okay with it. I could care less, but I know you care, so I'm glad he's trying."

She smiles. "How did you convince him your intentions are pure?"

Damon smirks. "Whoever said my intentions are _pure_?"

"Damon," she laughs, whacking him across the chest.

"I told him I'm in love with you."

She swears her heart stops in her chest, because there's no way she heard that right. "You… you what?"

His eyes soften, his smirk turns into a smile, and if she weren't already a puddle on the floor, she is now. "I'm in love with you," he repeats.

"Damon," she breathes.

He sets their food aside, pulls her in close to him, leans his forehead against hers. He kisses her sweetly. "You don't have to say it back."

"Are you kidding me?" she blurts, and he chuckles. "I swear I've been in love with you since I was eleven. I just never thought you'd ever feel the same way."

He shakes his head in disbelief, leans in to kiss her again. "You're the one that I want," he whispers against her lips.

She doesn't know where the future is going to take them, but she does know what movie they're watching tonight.

(As the opening credits of _Grease_ play on the big screen, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he can't hide the smile on his face before she kisses it away.)

 

… … …

 

He _would've_ walked into school hand-in-hand with Caroline on Tuesday morning, just to get the gossip mill going, but she had an early student council meeting and has already been here for an hour. So it's a little anticlimactic walking into school all by his lonesome.

But of course, the first thing he sees when he comes through the doors is Elena and Damon, talking and laughing and walking hand-in-hand down the hall, right in his direction.

"Hey, Stefan," Elena greets with a smile as they approach. Damon slings his arm around her shoulders, bumps fists with someone as they walk by him.

"Hey," he responds with a tentative grin. He closes his eyes, lets out a long breath. "This is going to take some serious adjustment."

Damon smirks. "Feeling a little uncomfortable, brother?"

Stefan ignores him, fixes his gaze on Elena. "Look, I'm not saying I'll ever be fully okay with this, but if you're happy, then…"

Elena breaks away from Damon, flings her arms around his neck, and he laughs. "You're my best friend, you know that?" she says quietly.

He nods. "Back at ya," he grins.

They continue down the hall, and Stefan reaches his locker just in time for Caroline to jump in front of him. "Morning!" she chirps.

He rears back in surprise, laughs. "Good morning." He pins her against his locker, his hands on either side of her head, and presses his lips against hers. "Been waiting to do that."

"Oh, yeah?" she giggles. "Can't wait to get the gossip mill going, huh?"

He smirks. "Just trying to make you proud."

She throws her head back and laughs. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

If someone had told him at the beginning of this year that by the end of the semester he'd have a massive fight with his best friend, make peace with his brother, and score himself the girl of his dreams, he definitely would have laughed in their face. But the way things stand now, honestly, he could never have imagined it happening any other way.

 

… … …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has read, subscribed, bookmarked, commented, and given kudos to this story! it's been a fun ride! the epilogue is next!


	20. epilogue // this feels like falling in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from "kiss me" by ed sheeran.
> 
> here it is... the final chapter!

**\- six months later -**

… … …

 

If you had asked Damon at the beginning of the school year where he thought he'd be the day after graduation, he sure as hell wouldn't have predicted this.

He's beyond glad that this day is finally here. Not because he was really looking forward to it or anything, but because maybe now that Jenna and Ric are married, he can have a conversation with his girl that doesn't revolve around flowers or seating arrangements. Not that he faults her for any of that - as the maid of honor, she had a lot of responsibilities in planning the wedding - but he can't say he's upset that it's over.

(She likes to joke that it's all been good practice for when its their turn, sometime in the distant future. He doesn't really think she's joking, and if he's being honest, he doesn't really mind.)

Speaking of his girl, she looks absolutely stunning tonight, and it's not just the perfect fit of her dress or her professionally-done hair and makeup. It's that she's _happy_. She's really, truly overjoyed that Ric is officially, legally part of her family. There's nothing more beautiful than her smile, he thinks, watching as Jeremy twirls her around the dance floor. He can't help but smile back when she meets his gaze, her eyes sparkling and her mouth parted as she laughs.

Then she dances over his way, toward where he's seated at the head table, and he has to wipe that smile off his face so she doesn't ask him to dance with her. (Not that it'll actually stop her.)

"Your turn," she chirps, tugging at his hand.

He shakes his head, plants his feet firmly on the ground. "Nope," he smirks, and she sticks out her lip in the cutest damn pout he's ever seen. He tugs her into his lap, and he's sure the way she stumbles has everything to do with the multiple glasses of champagne she's consumed tonight. "My dancing feet have retired for the night."

She frowns at him. "I know for a fact that your dancing feet _never_ retire. Exhibit A: prom."

He chuckles. "Prom was different. I was already drunk when we got there."

"You could be drunk right now, if you wanted to be."

"And show up hungover to a meeting with my new head coach tomorrow morning?" He smirks. " _You_ were the one who told me not to overdo it tonight."

Her frown only deepens. "Don't remind me that you're leaving tomorrow. I'm trying to forget about it."

And yeah, okay, he understands that, because he's been trying to forget about it, too. Not that he's not stoked about his full scholarship to Whitmore and the opportunity to continue playing football, but their summer practice schedule fucking _blows_. He's got two-a-days for the next three weeks, then a week off, and then three more weeks of practice, and so on, until the season starts in September. Like he said, it's not that he's not grateful for the opportunity, but he would've liked a little more quality time to spend with his girl before he starts classes in the fall and she goes back to school and this whole thing becomes exponentially more complicated. (He uses words like ' _exponentially_ ' now. Clearly, Elena's tutoring has done wonders for his vocabulary.)

"You sound like me," he jokes. "Aren't you the one who always tells me that avoiding my problems doesn't solve anything?"

"That's different," she insists, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. "That only applies to things you can actually fix."

He doesn't really have anything to say to that, because she's right. This isn't an issue they can solve with one conversation or one of her little to-do lists; it's just the reality that they're living with. And that thought is fucking depressing, so he decides he's not gonna think about it anymore tonight.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asks, his lips brushing her ear as he speaks over the music.

She giggles, her cheeks flushed from the compliment. "Not in the last half hour," she teases.

"Well, you look fucking incredible," he smirks. "If I had more alcohol in my system, I'd probably have shoved you up against a wall and messed you up a little bit by now."

"Damon!" she shrieks, laughing, her cheeks bright red. "My _parents_ are here. You can't say things like that."

"It's not like we do anything your _parents_ don't already know about," he reminds her with a laugh.

When he meets her gaze again, she's just staring at him, and he reaches up to push a stray curl out of her face. "What?" he wonders.

"I'm gonna miss you," she says, and she's not crying, but her eyes are sad, and if she's like this now, he's dreading saying goodbye to her in the morning before he leaves.

"I'm gonna miss you, too," he mumurs, because it's true, and he can't think of anything to say to make her feel better. But he supposes there's something he can _do_ , so he stands up, steadies her against him when she loses her balance. "Alright, you've convinced me. Let's show these jokers how it's done."

"Your dancing feet came out of retirement?" she teases.

"Just for you, baby," he winks, then kisses her quickly. "And because if we don't get out there soon to run interference, Ric might hurt someone with his flailing arms."

And with his girl in his arms and her head on his chest as they sway to some Ed Sheeran song, it's so easy to convince himself that no matter what happens, no matter where he ends up in the future, as long as he has her by his side, he'll be happy.

 

… … …

 

Stefan's never been a big fan of weddings. Yes, he's a writer, and he can be romantic when he wants to be. He just doesn't understand all the time and effort and money pumped into one singular day when it takes so much more than that to make a marriage. (From the stories he's heard and the photos he's seen, his parents' wedding was quite the event, and look how that turned out.) But watching Jenna and Ric exchange their vows and celebrate with their friends and family, seeing the genuine love and joy in their faces, seeing how happy Elena is to finally have her family together… he understands it now more than he did before.

It also doesn't hurt that his girlfriend _loves_ weddings, and he can't really be against anything that makes her smile the way she is now.

"What?" Caroline laughs, reaching up to touch her cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

He rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile. "Can't a guy just admire his beautiful girlfriend?"

She hums appreciatively. "I suppose, if you must," she sighs. She tries to brush it off when he compliments her, but the blush on her cheeks always gives her away.

He chuckles, wraps his arms a little tighter around her waist. Her arms wrap around his neck again as they sway to the music. "Thanks for being my date," he says. "Your enthusiasm has made the day much more bearable."

"Oh, please," she scoffs with a chuckle. "I saw the look on your face during the vows. Don't act like you didn't appreciate the meaning behind the day."

He shrugs. "It's nice to see them happy," he admits with a smile. "Their family's been through so much… Elena hasn't stopped smiling all day."

"Probably good timing that she's been so happy all day," Caroline muses, glancing over where Elena and Damon are dancing close by. "So she doesn't think about the fact that Damon's leaving tomorrow."

Yeah, to be honest, Stefan's been trying not to think about that, too. It's gonna be weird, being alone in the house for most of the summer. Damon's already told him that he'll be home on his week-long breaks, but he's gotten used to having his brother around. He's gotten used to having someone to watch basketball and baseball with, someone to throw the football with when they're bored. He doesn't mind their board game nights with Elena and Caroline. But really, he's just been enjoying having his brother in his life again. He'd even say they're friends at this point. After all the time that they spent being angry with each other, he feels like they've barely scratched the surface of making up for lost time.

"Yeah," he sighs. "I'm already preparing myself for the tears tomorrow morning."

"Elena's?" Caroline smirks. "Or yours?"

Stefan rolls his eyes, laughs. "Come on."

"I'm serious," she insists. "You try to pretend like you're not gonna miss him, but I know you will. He's your brother, and you guys have been through a lot. You've basically taken care of each other for the past six months. It's gonna be weird, living in that house all by yourself this summer."

"Well, yeah," he agrees. "It is gonna be weird, but I'm sure I'll get used to it."

She tilts her head, smiles knowingly. "Stefan," she murmurs.

"If you already know it, then why do you need to hear me say it?"

She hums. "I don't, I guess," she muses. "As long as you know it, too."

The song changes to an upbeat dance number, and Stefan steps away from her with a smirk. "That's my cue."

He hears Elena shriek, laughs as she barrels over to them, throws her arms around both their shoulders. The smile on her face is more blinding than the sun. "I love this song!" she shouts over the music. "Let's dance!"

And yeah, he _was_ gonna go get another beer and sit this one out, but when your best friend is really, truly happy for the first time in a really long time, how can you say no?

 

… … …

 

Selfishly, Elena's been dreading this day since she wrote it in her calendar. She figures it's some kind of twisted irony that yesterday was the happiest day of her life, the day her family finally became whole again.

Yesterday, she gained something. Today, she has to give something up.

Okay, so she's being a little dramatic. It's not like Damon's leaving forever, or they're breaking up, or something like that. But he's moving to Whitmore, which is at least a two hour drive away. He won't be just down the road if she wants to go get ice cream, or watch a movie, or just talk to him. She doesn't know what she's gonna do for the next three weeks until he gets a break to come home again. Yeah, she's got Stefan and Caroline, but they've also got each other, and she's certain they don't want her third-wheeling all the time. She would say she's got Bonnie, but Enzo's going to the local community college to continue to care for his daughter, so clearly Bonnie's got her hands full, too.

So basically, he's leaving her here to rot this summer.

It's not that she's not happy for him. _Of course_ she's happy for him. She's happy that he decided to continue playing football for himself, because he loves it, and that he got his grades up enough that he was accepted to Whitmore even before the scholarship was offered. She's so proud of him she feels like she could burst; watching him walk across the stage at graduation a few days ago was an incredible moment. And she's happy that they never needed to have that discussion about whether or not they're staying together; it's just a given at this point. She's happy that he feels the same way about her as she does about him.

That does little to make her feel better when he loads his last bag into the trunk of his Camaro and slams it shut.

"That's the last of it," he says, turning around to lean on the car, folding his arms across his chest. "Guess the time has come."

She comes to stand in front of him, rests her hands on his shoulders, and his hands fall to her hips to pull her closer. She sighs. "How do you think this whole long-distance thing is gonna work?"

"Well," he drawls. "I personally plan on forgetting about you the second I drive away." He chuckles and kisses the pout off her lips. "We'll make it work," he assures her. "I'm not worried."

"No?" She quirks a brow. "And why's that?"

"Because I love you."

She melts a little bit, can't help but smile. "I love you, too."

"Then there's really nothing left to figure out, is there?" He moves his hands to her cheeks, rests his forehead on hers. "We can make day trips on the weekends, and Facetime every day, and I'll be home in three weeks."

She nods, and he kisses her, soft and sweet. "Don't have too much fun," she warns.

He smirks. "Without you?" he says between kisses. "Impossible."

Stefan clears his throat from the sidewalk. "Sorry to interrupt, but…"

"Yeah, yeah," Damon sighs. "I've gotta get going."

Elena steps away, watches as Damon steps toward his brother. "You gonna be okay without me, brother?"

Stefan smirks. "I think I'll manage," he chuckles.

"You've got the bank account information, and you know how to pay all the bills, and you've got plenty of groceries to feed yourself…"

"Yes, Damon." Stefan rolls his eyes. "I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

Elena watches as the two brothers engage in some kind of strange, wordless exchange with their eyes. She imagines that's as close to an expression of brotherly love as they're gonna get. Then, Damon surprises her, steps forward to hug Stefan.

"Call me if you need anything," Damon says.

Stefan clears his throat, a tell-tale sign of emotion. "I will."

Damon pats him on the back, pulls away. He approaches her once more, wraps his arms around her so tightly her feet leave the ground, presses his lips to hers so hard she thinks they're gonna bruise. "I love you," he whispers once more when he pulls away.

"I love you, too," she echoes with a smile.

He puts her down, pats Stefan's shoulder one more time as he passes. Then he climbs in his Camaro, throws a hand up to wave goodbye out the window. And then he's gone.

"Okay," Stefan exclaims, claps his hands together. "We're not going to wallow."

"Why not?" Elena pouts. "I can't even have _one day_ to wallow?"

"Nope," he says emphatically. He drapes an arm over her shoulders, smiles down at her. "We've got predictions to read."

He pulls two folded up sheets of paper out of his back pocket, and she gasps. "You opened the box without me?"

"Had to have these on hand to cheer you up," he reasons with a smirk. "I can't wait to read how _wrong_ we were about the way this year would go."

She laughs because he's right. She honestly doesn't even remember what she wrote for this year, but there's no way it came anywhere close to predicting the year they had.

They sit down on the front steps of the Salvatore mansion, and Elena takes a deep breath, takes her sheet of paper from his hand. "You go first," she insists.

He rolls his eyes. "Fine." Slowly, carefully, he unfolds his paper and holds it in front of him, clears his throat dramatically. "This year," he drawls, "my dad will make my life a living hell."

"Stefan," Elena laughs. "Come on. You didn't really write that."

"Duh," he chuckles. "I'll quit the football team before the season's over." He hums. "I guess that wasn't so far off base."

"You didn't end up quitting so much as they just didn't invite you back," Elena teases.

"Okay, well let's hear yours, then," Stefan laughs.

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes as she unfolds her paper. She doesn't think, she just reads it out loud.

"This year will be the best one yet."

Stefan snorts out a laugh, but she honestly doesn't think she was too far off. It definitely wasn't easy, and most of that was her own doing, but all things considered, she thinks it was a pretty great year. Stefan and Damon finally cleared the rift between them. Elena made two great new friends in Caroline and Bonnie. Stefan finally stood up to his father, and they finally got out from under Giuseppe's thumb. Oh yeah, and she fell in love. That was pretty great, too.

"I don't know," Elena murmurs. "I don't think I was completely wrong."

Stefan hums, considers. "You know," he pauses, "I think you might be right."

His eyes meet hers, and she can't help but smile.

 

… … …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this story almost a year ago, and now here we are with the final chapter finally posted! thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. I'm so happy y'all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've had a lot of requests to continue writing in this 'verse... who knows? maybe I'll get inspired again. for now, I'm happy with the way this ended, and I hope you are too. thanks again, y'all... it's been a fun ride!


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